Snowbound
by kwater
Summary: Dean smiled at the young girl and said, "My name's Dean. It's going to be alright you know, we'll get you to town safely."
1. Chapter 1

"Come on, Kerry, just pull over, I gotta take a leak. There's no way I'm going to make it back to your house, we're only halfway there."

Kerry rolled her eyes dramatically as she pulled over onto the shoulder of the back mountain road, putting the car in park she shrugged. "Fine, John, but this is the last time I'm stopping. Mom and Dad have been waiting to meet you for a month now. If my Dad doesn't get the chance to spend two hours grilling you, he's going to rupture something soon."

John grinned, pulling Kerry close, he dropped a kiss on her forehead and then another on her lips. "I'm not stalling, I promise, I just forgot you were born in the sticks. Five minutes and we'll be on our way."

John slid from the passenger seat, moving into the shadow of the trees he glanced back at the car. Smiling, he heard Kerry's voice call out, "I can still see you." Laughing, he jogged farther into the woods, before unzipping his fly. A full moon lit the night sky, though John could barely make it out through the thick canopy of trees. As he stood a prickle of unease snaked its way up his back. Turning his head, he spied a figure about thirty feet away. Embarrassed to be caught, with his pants down, so to speak, John quickly zippered up his fly. Turning towards the shadowy form, he moved a bit closer curious as to where the figure had come from.

Smiling a bit, he asked, "Are you lost?"

His unease grew as the figure moved closer, ignoring his question. It was only as the person was about twenty feet away that John realized it was a woman, and a beautiful one at that. Trying to appear unconcerned, as the woman walked toward him, he quipped, "Fancy meeting you here".

At her continued silence John frowned in confusion. He noticed that she was dressed in a long black cloak that appeared to be made out of silk. Her long blond hair had a silver sheen to it in the light of the full moon. Her features were perfect, her skin like satin. Closer and closer, she moved her unfaltering gaze locked on him.

Clearing his throat, John took a step back, trying to put more distance between the two of them. Still the woman kept moving forward; finally, unable to shake the feeling that he was in trouble, he began backing in earnest towards the car. Regardless of how fast he was moving the woman still seemed to be closing the distance between them. Shaking in fear, John finally turned his back on her and began running.

Trees grabbed at his clothing as he pushed through the brush. Running blindly, he kept darting glances over his shoulder, always finding the woman a couple steps behind. In desperation, he ran toward a heavy branch, grabbing it, he gripped it like a club. Turning, in one smooth motion he brought the club around as if he was swinging a bat. Expecting to make impact with the woman's body, he instead hit nothing. His momentum caused him to make almost a complete circle. Struggling to keep his balance, he fell to his knees, club forgotten beside him as his knee came in contact with a rock, buried under the fall leaves.

Scrabbling, tears of panic and pain, running down his face, John got to his feet. Limping, he once again began moving, it was only then that he realized he'd lost his way. Running blindly, he felt something sticky land on him. Falling to the ground, unable to move a muscle he screamed as he stared up at the figure before him.

888

Sam squinted in the darkness as he slowed even more. Visibility had gone from bad to non-existent in a matter of minutes. He cursed his luck at running into a freak snowstorm in mid April while driving through the Green mountains of Vermont. At first, he hadn't been worried, after all he'd been climbing the back mountain road for at least a half-hour. The way he had figured it, was by the time the storm had worsened he would be on his way back down the other side. Apparently, he was wrong. Because, here he was still heading up a steep incline and the snow had become more than simply a dusting, or even a shower.

Glancing at the passenger seat, he breathed a sigh of relief that his brother still slept soundly. Slowing to a near crawl, Sam wondered just how long his luck would last. Dean was nothing if not astute and the reduced rumble of the big engine was bound to wake him soon. Focusing once more on the road in front of him, he tried not to grip the steering wheel too tightly, as the car fishtailed toward the shoulder of the road. Even in the dim early evening light, he was able to see the sheer drop that ran along the side of the road. Not allowing his eyes to linger on the drop off, Sam concentrated on getting both his brother and more importantly the Impala safely down the mountain.

Running into snow had been a concern of both Sam and Dean when they had come across a newspaper article, refering to rash of killings in a remote Main town. Both brothers, however, had decided that a nest of vampires killing people, in the town of Springfield, far outweighed dangerous road conditions. Sam now found himself wondering if they'd been wrong.

Sam was unable and unwilling to bite back a curse as the car fishtailed once more. Turning into the slide, he was able to right the Impala just before it scraped the guardrail. Reaching up and wiping the sweat from his forehead, he began to panicking in earnest as the car once again, lost traction.

Dean heard a muffled curse, opening his eyes he took note of his brother's sweaty face and white knuckled fingers grasping the steering wheel. "What's up Sammy?" Dean asked as he wiped a hand across his eyes. Glancing out the window, he couldn't help but sit bolt upright as the car cut through a sheet of white. "When the hell did this start. Pull over."

Sam glanced at his brother and grimaced, "About an hour ago, and I would if I could but I can't, there's no pull off. If I stop we're liable to get hit by something else, visibility's pretty much nil right now."

Dean didn't bother to stop the curse that escaped him. Sam was a decent driver. Hell, to be honest, there was no one else that Dean would rather have driving his baby, except himself of course. However, Sam had little to no experience driving in this kind of snow.

Sam continued squinting in the darkness, hating the worry that was evident in every line in his brother's, rigidly held body. Keeping an eye peeled for a pull-off, Sam was beginning to wonder if even his brother would be able to guide the big car back down the mountain.

It was only as they earned a brief reprieve from the endless snow that Sam saw a glint of metal. Focusing, he saw a car take shape in the darkness, parked in a pull-off on the opposite side of the road. Breathing a sigh of relief, he quickly parked in front of the car. Climbing out of the driver's side door, he moved around the Impala, intending to get in the passenger side. As he moved in between the Impala's front end and the other car's bumper, he slipped. Barely managing to stay upright, he caught himself on the car's bumper. Steadying himself, he continued around toward the passenger side car door.

The sudden slamming of a car door was followed by a hoarse shout. "Wait, please."

Sam turned, almost slipping again; he steadied himself, and turned toward the car. A teenage girl stood by her open car door. "Please, my car just stopped and my cell phone's dead. Can you call a tow for me?"

Sam felt his heart go out to the young girl before him; he figured she couldn't be older than seventeen. "Sure, my name's Sam. Just hold on a second my phone's in the car." Sam opened the door quickly, keeping one eye on the young girl. She looked as if she would bolt any second, he didn't want to risk scaring her off. Right now, he was her safest bet, though, he doubted he would be able to convince her of that.

"Dude, you're letting snow in. Would you get in here already, this storm's not going to get better you know." Sam could hear the irritation in Dean's voice.

Ignoring it as par for the course, he grabbed his phone and said, "There's a girl in that car, it's broken down and her cell's dead." Ducking back out of the car, Sam stood once more glad to see the girl still standing by her car. Sam held up the phone and began dialing information, after a moment he cursed in frustration as he noted the lack of signal bars on his phone. Shrugging his shoulders, he said to the girl "I've got no signal." He held up the phone to emphasize his point. He hated the distrustful way she stared at him, as if he was purposely being unhelpful.

A moment later Dean climbed out of the car, shrugging on his coat as he did. "What's the deal, Sam?" Dean asked his voice sounding harsh in the cold night.

"No reception. Dean you want to take a look at the car? Maybe you can get it started," Sam said knowing that his brother would be unable to pass up a chance at playing hero. Holding his hands up in the air, Sam said to the young girl, "Why don't you get back inside the car, it'll be a bit warmer at least and my brother will take a look."

Remaining well out of both brother's range the young girl nodded and said, "Thanks," her teeth chattering as she climbed back into her aging hatchback.

Dean approached the hood of the car, feeling for the latch he quickly propped the hood open. Motioning for Sam to hold a flashlight, Dean began looking over the engine. Muttering under his breath he did a quick once over, glancing at Sam he shook his head. "No go, Sam. It looks as if her timing belt is shot. She's not going anywhere in that car. You're going to have to give her the puppy eyes. We can at least get her to the next town."

Sam nodded and approached the driver's side door and gestured for the young girl to get out of the car. Standing well back, he said, "Car's a no go. It is going to need to be towed out of here. My cell is still not getting any reception. Overall, I think your best bet is to take a ride with us into town. We'll be able to get you help there." Sam waited sure from the horrified look on her face what her answer was going to be.

Dean must have also sensed her refusal because he stepped forward. "Listen, I know you don't want to do this, but you have no choice. This snow is not going to ease up magically and it's not safe for you to sit in the car. Not to mention you're liable to freeze. Sam and I are good guys, really." Dean simply stared at the young girl willing her to believe him.

Sam started in surprise as the girl finally nodded. Reaching into her car, she drew a large black leather bag out of the front seat and moved towards the Impala. As Dean moved to open the rear door for her, she said softly, "My name's Jen."

Dean smiled at the young girl and said, "My name's Dean. It's going to be alright you know, we'll get you to town safely." Dean shut the door and quickly slid into the driver's seat of the Impala. Boosting the heat, he aimed the vents towards the back seat where she was huddled.

Sam turned around and reached down for a blanket that lay folded on the floorboards, not liking the way the young girl flinched when he reached for the blanket. Rather than helping her he simply pointed to it. "Feel free to use it; you've got to be freezing."

Jen was embarrassed and not a little bit afraid to find herself in a strange car with two guys. Pulling the blanket on her lap, she made every effort to stay alert for any signs that the two young men before her were some kind of serial killers. Jen muttered, "Thanks" as she slowly but surely began to warm up.

Dean and Sam exchanged a quick look. Sam turned while Dean put the car in gear and began talking, trying to put the young girl at ease. "So what are you doing way out here?"


	2. Chapter 2

Dean shut out Sammy's voice as he began working out a plan of attack. The Impala was not exactly an off-road vehicle and the snow had reached blizzard conditions a while ago. Straightening the wheel, Dean put the big car into reverse. Pressing the gas pedal down, he began chanting under his breath, urging the car to move. Obligingly the car began moving, careful not to give it too much gas he continued backing up. Trying to see through the rear window, he inched backwards bit by bit.

Just as he was about to crow a victory he heard a low rumble. Shushing Sam, he listened intently, head cocked slightly to the side. It was as he watched a set of headlights appear through the wall of snow that he realized just what the noise was. Laying on his horn, and flashing his lights Dean made every attempt to capture the attention of the snowplow driver that was now pushing a wall of snow along the roadway, effectively blocking the pull-off.

Slamming his hand against the wheel, Dean turned towards his brother. Cocking a lone eyebrow he asked, "Well, Francis, you going to sit there or are you grab a shovel and earn your keep?"

Sam shot an apologetic glance towards Jen. "You stay in here, Jen, Dean and I'll have us dug out in a minute." Sam frowned at his brother; a sure indication that he thought Dean was upsetting their young guest.

Dean rolled his eyes at the young girl, grinning even wider when he noticed the young girl's lips twitch with suppressed laughter. Tipping her a wink, he grabbed a pair of gloves off the floorboards and opened the door. Shrugging his shoulders against the cold, Dean cursed freely, Sam had made it sound as if it would be no problem digging the car out, but Dean wasn't so confident.

Sam watched as his brother exited the car, smiling at Jen he grabbed his own gloves and said, "It really will be okay. Just sit here and stay warm." Stepping out into the night, Sam moved toward the trunk where Dean was extracting shovels. Sam snorted as he accepted his noticing it was still caked with mud from the last job they'd worked. Speaking softly, he said, "Make sure the trunk's locked Dean. The girl's already totally freaked."

"Yeah, well she's got reason to be, Sam." Dean hated to admit it but he knew he needed to be honest with Sam. "And to be honest we should be too. This snow's way deeper than I expected, even with chains on we may not get down this mountain." Dean slammed shut the lid to the car. Turning on his flashlight, he pointed it toward the mountain of snow that was now blocking his view of the road.

It was then; Sam got his first real glimpse of the pile of snow that now ran the length of the pull-off. The ridge had to be at least two feet high and looked to be frozen solid. Following his brother's lead Sam, began shoveling.

Once Dean got his bearings, he shut off the light and was careful to pocket it. Lifting his first shovelful, he nearly groaned at the weight. Full of cinders from the road and packed down by the weight of the plow, shoveling was a slow process. Scoop by scoop the boys continued trying to make a dent in the bank, while snow fell from the sky. Dean cursed and pulled the collar of his jacket against his neck once more. Wishing not for the first time, that he were dressed more appropriately he called out to Sam, "Listen, Sam, it's too cold out here. Go warm up in the car, then you can spell me for a bit. Also, check the gas gauge. We should be near to full, but I just want to keep an eye on it."

Sam looked to Dean and thought about arguing, after all his brother had been shoveling just as much and was sure to be just as cold. The only thing that stopped him was that he knew an order from Dean when he heard one. Bucking his brother now would only wear them both out all the faster. "Fine, but I'm coming out in fifteen to spell you, no arguments."

Dean held up his hands in surrender. "You got it, Sammy; I'll be shot by then anyway."

Sam nodded and headed back toward the car. Wincing as the door joints creaked, he slid onto the front bench seat, grateful for the car's warmth. A glance at the back seat showed him a bleary pair of brown eyes. Smiling, he said, "Sorry if I woke you. It's taking longer than we figured, so we're going to have to take turns."

Jen blinked as a loud squeal pulled her from her semi-doze. Sitting upright, she gazed blearily at the handsome man before her. Pushing down the nervousness his presence created she asked, "Maybe I should help. I mean the quicker we dig out the quicker we'll get to town right?"

Sam shook his head, "No, there's no way we're letting you go out there and freeze. Dean and I'll manage and we'll get you home."

Jen smiled softly, "Yeah, cause you promised right?"

Sam returned her grin, peeling off his wet gloves he laid them on the floorboards. Kicking the heat up a bit, he adjusted the vents. Sam snorted as he glanced at the gas gauge, Dean was right they were using fuel even though the car was stationary. Making a mental note of where the gauge was and what time it was he figured he'd better keep a close eye on it. At least there was gas in Jen's car, and Sam was sure they had a length of hose in the trunk. They had been thankful for it many a night when they needed a bit of gas, in order to burn some poor soul's bones.

"So, Jen, you didn't say earlier. Where were you headed?" Sam asked as he held his fingers in front of the vent, rubbing the feeling back into them.

After a moments silence Sam realized that Jen hadn't spoken, turning he noted a flush of embarrassment that turned her features red. Quirking an eyebrow he waited for her to speak.

"Well, I'm really not supposed to be here. See I only got my license a month ago and I promised my parents that I wouldn't leave town. Then my best friend Christy begged me to go with her to this show at a nearby college, and well I figured it would be fine. I figured I'd get back her in plenty of time for my curfew." Sitting back, she finished in a low voice, "boy did I screw that up. My folks are going to kill me. Just tonight I've already broken about five of their must follow rules."

Dean slid into the front seat, brows drawn. "Just five I find that hard to believe."

Jen hung her head. "Well, number one is no talking to strangers." Jen looked up and gave the brothers a half-smile. "Well I blew that one to hell."

Dean shook his head. "You should get your ass kicked for it to. If anyone else had come along you could have been in real trouble."

Jen smiled fondly at Dean as he lectured. "You sound like my brother."

"Let me guess, an older brother right. That sounds like older brother advice," Dean said. Turning toward Sam he noticed that his brother was pulling on his gloves, Dean shook his head. "Leave them off, Sam, its no good. The plow just came through again. I couldn't get the guys attention, there's no way we're getting the car out now and to be honest from the looks of things, it probably wouldn't have gotten us anywhere anyway."

"Crap, what now. We just hunker down and wait for daylight," Sam asked his worried glance sliding to Jen.

Dean turned in his seat, blowing on his hands to warm them he asked, "Jen, where are we compared to the nearest houses? Any clue?"

Jen shook her head. "There's nothing close by. The nearest house has got to be about twenty-five miles, we're on State Game lands here."

Dean and Sam exchanged glances once more, "It's getting worse by the minute out there. Now that it's dark out I can't imagine the plows will keep coming. The car is pretty good, but I'll tell you what, that last blast from the snowplow came too close for comfort. If we get covered we'll have to shut down the engine. Running the heat will do us no good, if we die from carbon monoxide poisoning."

Sam nodded, "Maybe we should try and flag someone down, you know one of the trucks maybe."

"Flares are all gone Sammy and I'll be honest I'm not sure what else would work. Maybe a fire of some kind, except we'd have to use the gas to keep it lit and I don't like the idea of wasting it right now," Dean said as he gestured to the gas gauge.

Jen frowned as she listened to the guys exchange ideas. "There's the cabins," She said looking up excitedly.

Dean and Sam both turned toward Jen in synch. Watching she flinched a bit at their intense gazes. "What cabins?" Sam asked.

"Hunting cabins, they're all over the place. Even though we border on State Game there's a tract or two of cabins that people own, about half a mile from here."

"Anybody live year round in these cabins?" Dean asked

Jen shook her head. "I don't think so, I mean you're not supposed to. The rangers close the roads in weather like this and at night during the winter. It's just too dangerous."

All three of them fell silent as they heard the rumble of an engine, putting the car in gear; Dean tried desperately to get the Impala to move forward. Hoping to keep it out of range of the blast of snow. As the car slid forward about a foot, Sam watched a mound of snowfall just where they had been moments before.

Turning toward Dean, he raised a brow. "What do you think, at least a cabin would be shelter. I don't think I like our chances staying here."

Dean put the car in park again and turned once more towards Jen. "These cabins how do you get to them, where's the access road?"

Jen smiled glad to be able to help. "The access road is farther up, it's hard to see, but I think I could find it. Then you just follow the pathway and you will start seeing the cabins. I think there's about ten altogether, though I haven't been out this way in over two years."

"Alright then, we're going to chance it. Let's pack some gear, and get moving. If we're lucky we'll be able to flag down a plow truck before we're more than a couple feet down the road," Dean said as shut the engine off. Turning toward Jen, he said, "Listen up, we've got some supplies, but it would be great if you could check out your car and bring anything you might think is useful. Especially food and clothing if you've got it. Be smart in packing your bag, you're going to be the one carrying it."

Sam sat watching his brother issue orders and nearly smiled, how many times had their own father made exactly that same speech. Whether it had been a trip to the grocery store or a hunt, it had always been, only carry what you can hold. Shaking his head, Sam quickly gathered the blanket Jen had been using and a couple of discarded flannel shirts from the back seat. Turning he tried to open his car door and found it stuck. Not liking the claustrophobic feeling, he motioned to Dean to let him out.

Dean nodded and began climbing out. Moving toward the trunk both brothers kept a careful eye on Jen, who had quickly set about filling her black bag from her car. Opening the trunk Dean quickly packed two green duffle bags and then stood aside so Sam could do the same. Picking up the container of lighter fluid they kept, Dean was grateful to feel the heavy weight of it. Slamming the trunk closed he and Sam moved toward Jen, turning on their flashlights as they went.

"Ready to go?" Sam asked as he saw Jen emerge from her car, head covered in a hat and with a scarf wrapped around her throat. At her nod, he turned and followed Dean as the older hunter made his way up the snow bank.

At the top, Dean held out his hands to Sam and said, "She's going to need help, Toss me the bags and then you can give her a hand." One by one, Sam tossed the gear to Dean. At last, he held out a hand to the young girl and waited.

Jen looked at the offered hand and swallowed, here she was about to break the second cardinal rule, never except rides with strangers. Though technically she wasn't riding with them, she thought, as she accepted Sam's hand. In minutes, she was grateful for his help, the snow was deep, and in some places, it was still powdery. Twice she sunk into the bank nearly up to her waist and the only thing that was able to get her loose were Sam's strong arms.

Sam struggled to get the young girl over the bank. At last as they waded down the other side, he found himself praying that they found shelter soon. The snow that had begun only five hours earlier had to be at least two probably closer to three feet deep already and it showed no sign of stopping.

Picking up their gear they quickly fell into formation with Dean leading the way and Sam brining up the rear. As they began trekking up the roadway Dean could only hope, they were making the right choice. Picking up the pace a bit, he resolutely continued.


	3. Chapter 3

Glancing down at the illuminated dial of his watch, Dean came to a stop. A moment later Jen plowed into his back. Trying not to growl, as she knocked into him, he steadied her gently. "Alright, Jen, way I figure it we've gone about a mile. Just where do you think these cabins are?"

Jen stared around the storm-darkened night, sighing in relief; she pointed at some half-buried yellow posts. Heading toward them, she found herself stopped by a hand on her arm.

Dean grabbed hold of Jen and exchanged glances with Sam, after a moment he nodded and allowed the girl to head toward the tree lined path. "Not one vehicle's passed since we started walking, Sam."

Sam nodded. "I know, but we've found the trail. If we can find a cabin, you and I know enough to keep her safe until we're dug out."

Nodding, Dean said, "Yeah well, that doesn't mean I have to like it."

888

Jen let loose an oath as she struggled once again to her feet. A strong arm wrapped around her waist and lifted her loose. Shooting a grateful glance toward Dean, she wondered just how long she could keep going. She was used to snow, after all growing up in the mountains left her little choice, but this, well this was just absurd. The path stretched out before them with no end in sight. The snow was two feet of ice, with three feet of powder on top and to Jen's petite frame that equaled trouble. At only five foot on a good day, Jen was always being mistaken for a twelve year old instead of her actual sixteen. It had been a blessing the day she had earned her license with proof of her age on it.

This time when she sank down and couldn't get loose she just stopped trying. She just could not do it anymore; she decided that dying was preferable to the numbness she was now feeling. Not bothering to glance up, she tried to ignore the insistent voice that kept chiding her too keep going. Unable to ignore the voice, that sounded suspiciously like her big brother's in words if not tone, she struggled up once more.

"Sam, take my bags," Dean said, as he tossed his two duffels to Sam who grunted as he caught them. Holding tight to the young girl beside him, he bent low and whispered in her ear, "I know your shot, but you have to hold on just a little longer."

When she continued to gaze blankly at him, he became more insistent. "Jen, up now, you have to keep moving. I told you I'd keep you safe and I will, but you have to do your part."

Nodding grimly, Dean helped the girl get up once more, bending low in front of her he said, "Climb on, kiddo. We've got to keep moving."

Jen stared stupidly at the older man who was now offering her a piggyback ride. Relieved and somewhat embarrassed she climbed on. Wrapping her legs securely around his waist, she laid her head on his shoulder. "I'm pretty sure I'm breaking a rule here. I'm just too tired to figure out which one."

"Well, if it makes you feel any better, I'm sure you broke one when you let loose that curse earlier." Dean chuckled as he straightened, the girl's slight weight easily managed. At least for now. He knew it wouldn't take long for her small frame to become a burden, turning toward the path, he intended to find shelter before that occurred.

"Number five, is cursing. We live by the seven dirty words, they're all no-no's," Jen said chuckling, "My mother's most vile curse is for Christmas Sake, and that's only used in life or death situations."

Sam smiled as he listened to his brother banter words back and forth with Jen. Moving in front, he forged a path through the snow. He had to chuckle at the sight his big brother made with tiny Jen on his back. He could still recall the countless rides Dean had given him when he had been a kid. They had stopped only when Dean could no longer manage Sam's ever-increasing height.

"What are you sniggering about?" Dean asked glad that the fatigue he was feeling wasn't noticeable in his voice.

"Just remembering the last time you carried me that way. You were fourteen, maybe and we had a long hike back to the car. Dad kept telling you to put me down, to make me walk and you refused. You claimed you could carry me all day and not get tired." Sam smiled fondly at the memory.

Dean's smile was more of a grimace as he remembered the reason they were hiking all that way. Sam had been in charge of the map and he'd lost it, their father had been furious. It hadn't been the first or the last time that Dean had interfered in order to prevent Sam from feeling the brunt of his father's frustrated anger.

No, he had spent the majority of his youth, defending Sam and easing his way in the world. Dean knew, it was what his mother would have done for him, and he felt it only right that someone do the same for Sam.

Coming back to the present Dean asked, "See anything yet?"

Sam shook his head, shifting the five bags he held once more. Lifting Dean's two higher on his shoulder he noticed they both felt heavy. "What the hell did you pack, Dean? Your bag feels like you packed it with bricks."

Dean shrugged Jen higher on his back, relieved that the girl seemed to be sleeping a bit. Snapping at his brother's stupid question, he answered, "Bricks of course, what you didn't bring any." Dean made sure his tone dripped with sarcasm.

Sam's warm and fuzzy feelings for his brother fled in an instant. Tired, wet, unsure of their destination and their capability to keep the young girl in their charge alive he anwsered, "Well, I wouldn't be surprised. After all, you're the man that considers beer a necessity."

Dean swiftly bent over careful not to dislodge Jen, and scooped up a handful of ice. Aiming carefully, he let loose a snowball. Laughing snidely as it made contact with Sam's back, he said, "Like you won't be damn grateful if I did bring a six-pack. You know how many calories are in a beer? Lot more than in one of those damn salads you're always trying to force feed me."

Sam let loose with a curse as the snowball hit him squarely in the back. Glancing over his shoulder, he saw Dean's smug grin.

Dean knew that Sam wouldn't retaliate, at least not as long as he was playing pony, for the teenage girl.

Shaking the heavy duffels once again, Sam could hear a suspicious clanking. "What the hell? Did you even pack any clothes? What are you planning on wearing once we get to the cabin?"

Dean snorted in glee, knowing that Sam wouldn't dare retaliate, he once again, readied another snowball. Tossing it and smiling as it made contact, he said, "I brought a spare pair of jeans and dry socks, what more could I need, Princess?"

"Jeans, and socks, that's it? Well that's just great and how were you planning on warding off hypothermia, cause I'm letting you know now you're not getting any of my nice dry clothes." Sam batted a hand backward trying to reach his brother.

Dean dodged lightly out of the way of Sam's long reach, careful not to jostle Jen. "Listen, Sam, I don't know what you're planning, but I plan on building a fire, we're not cavemen you know. We know how to get warm and dry."

Sam jangled the packs once more, "Well, I'm not carrying them a step further unless you tell me what I'm hauling," Sam said, stopping, crossing his arms he waited.

Dean rolled his eyes and let loose with another snowball. "Supplies of course, what else would I bring."

Sam frowned as he brushed snow off his jacket once more. "Supplies, like camping supplies?"

Dean matched Sam's frown with one of his own, "No, you dumbass, like hunting supplies. You didn't honestly think I'd trek through some mountainside, without silver bullets or holy water did you?"

Staring in incredulity at his brother, Sam dropped both bags. "No, tell me I'm not hauling every hunting item we had in the trunk cause of your paranoia."

"Pick up those bags, Sam," Dean growled.

Sam held his arms out to his sides and lifted a brow. "Make me," he said.

Dean started forward no longer conscience of the girl on his back, "Pick it up or I will make you. And keep in mind, Sammy, you've still yet to get the jump on your big brother. You might want to consider that before you throw out any more threats."

Sam ducked low, hands at the ready, he said, "Bring it on, old man, and we'll see just who's doing the ass kicking tonight."

Anger surged through Dean and he almost shrugged the young girl on his back off. Every intention was to take Sam and his high horse attitude down a couple pegs. Before he got the chance, Jen spoke.

"Mom, turn off the alarm, it's Saturday. I don't have to get up this morning."

Dean turned his focus on the girl who was pressed against his back, noting her closed eyes he wondered at her words.

"Come on Mom, just five more minutes," Jen said, squinting her eyes closed even more.

That's when Dean heard it, a whining noise that seemed to be coming from Sam's feet. Both brothers exchanged confused glances. It was Sam that recovered first, grabbing the bags he called out, "It's the meter, Dean, something's out here."

Dean shrugged Jen off his back hating to have to push the girl anymore but, knowing it was necessary, he shook her fully awake.

Ignoring Sam's repeated 'hurry up Dean', he waited until her eyes focused on his. "Listen Kiddo, we've got a problem. We think it's a bear. We need to move and move fast. Can you do that for me, Jen, can you run?"

At the word bear, Jen's eyes widened. Nodding she said, "I'll try."

"Good, we're going to keep you between us; we'll try and keep you on your feet."

Nodding to Sam, he accepted the shotgun his brother pulled from one of the bags. Not even bothering to try to explain, he moved them out. Moving at a steady pace, Dean began searching in earnest for the nearest cabin. "What the hell, Sam?"

Sam shook his head, his gaze searching the dark for whatever was causing the EMF meter to light up like a Christmas tree. Over and over again, either he or Dean would haul Jen back to her feet, while trying to maintain the pace Dean set. Finally, Sam spotted a dark shadow in a clearing on the left side of the path. Pointing to it, they began to run, full out, toward the building.

Coming to a halt at the front door, Dean moved to kick it in. Only Sam's hand on his arm stopped him from delivering the blow. Pulling out his lock picks, Sam went to work. He had no interest in having a broken door between him and whatever haunted the woods.

Falling into the room in a tangle of limbs and snow, the three of them landed on the floor. With Dean slamming, the door shut.

Jen sat up, her leg trapped under Sam's and asked, "Who the heck are you guys?"


	4. Chapter 4

Untangling himself from the pile, Dean stood, ignoring the young girl's words, he stared at Sam. Arms folded across his chest, he waited.

Sam stood and held out a hand to help Jen up from the floor; turning toward his brother he saw the stubborn look on his face. Shaking his head, he folded his own arms and turned the look right back on his brother.

"Say it, Sam," Dean said one brow lifted.

"Nope, I won't," Sam answered not caring how petulant he sounded.

"Say it or I'll make you," Dean said his voice now devoid of humor.

"I will not, I'm twenty-three not thirteen, Dean, and you can't make me anymore," Sam said, staring his brother down, a bit nervously.

"I can't really. Give me the gun," Dean said holding his hand out toward his brother.

"No, I'm not giving it to you," Sam said clutching the shotgun.

"Yeah, you will, Mr. Dry Socks. I packed the gun; I get to use the gun. Now give it over." Dean took a step toward his brother.

Sam glanced from Dean's serious face to the shotgun in hand. Hating that Dean had been right and that he had been wrong, Sam sighed and said, "Fine, but just so you know this is stupid and immature."

Jen desperately held back a laugh, as she watched Dean mimic Sam's every word. Looking from one brother to the next, she actually began to relax. After all, there was no way that psycho killing, rapists, would be this ridiculous.

Sam took a deep breath and said in a rush, "Older brother's know everything and should never be second guessed. Older brother's rule and younger brother's are lame," Sam finished in a huff.

Dean grinned broadly at Jen. Tipping her a wink, he said, "Finish it, Sam."

"Fine, I promise to always follow my older brother's lead," Sam finished in a rush. "Now do you think maybe we should take the time to get warm?

Dean waved his hand at Sam and said, "I'll get a fire started."

Dean moved his flashlight about the room, quickly taking stock of the combined kitchen and den. On the far wall was a wood burning stove. Heading over to it, he quickly began laying a fire. Glancing over his shoulder, he snapped, "Hey, Princess, how about a little light."

Jen jumped and began searching for candles, or a lantern. It was only as she saw Sam seemed to be doing the same that she questioned, "He meant me, right?"

Sam blew out a breath and said, "No, Jen, go put on some dry clothes, Dean'll have a fire started in a minute."

Jen tried her best not to laugh, knowing that she was grinning like an idiot she said sympathetically, "My big brother does the same thing, except I have to call him the king of all kings."

Teeth clenched he nodded at Jen. "Thanks. Go sit." Pushing the girl toward the couch, Sam began rummaging through the house searching for some kind of light.

Dean sat back on his heels as the fire began to grow. Satisfied that it would remain lit, he moved toward the couch. Uncaring that Jen sat upon it; he grabbed one end, lifted it, and walked it to within a foot or two of the woodstove. Minutes later, he had done the same with the other side. Pointing a finger at Jen, he said, "Strip off everything, and wrap yourself in this." He tossed her the blanket off an old recliner.

Gesturing toward Sam, he moved toward the back of the small cabin. Moving into one of the two bedrooms, he noticed a candle sitting on one of the dresser's. Reaching over to light it, he shut the door partially. Taking a seat on the bed, he rubbed his face in weariness.

He was freezing cold, exhausted, and afraid that whatever was out in that forest had them trapped and pretty much helpless.

Sam dropped down next to him and said, "What are we going to tell her?"

Dean sighed, "I've got no frickin' clue. I was hoping you might have an idea."

Nodding toward the window, Sam asked, "What do you think it is? Out there."

Dean shook his head, standing he walked to the window and stared out into the all-encompassing darkness. "I don't know, it could be anything. We've got to lock this place down."

Sam nodded. "Let's do it then."

Jen quickly rifled through her bag grateful that she had spent the other night at a girlfriend's house. Pulling out a pair of pajamas, she glanced about the dark room trying to find a little privacy. Spying what looked like a closet door, she moved over to it. Opening it, she saw it was piled high with junk, unable to fit inside she used the door itself as a privacy shield. Changing quickly, she was grateful for the warm flannel pants and button down top she slipped on. Her legs burned from the cold and she was having trouble stopping her shaking.

Finally, as she emerged into the main room she quickly pulled up a couple of straight-backed chairs. Draping her clothes over the rungs, she positioned them near the stove. Heat was already pouring from it, pushing the cold away. Wrapping herself in the smelly blanket, she curled up on the couch. Glancing away from the fire only as the two men came back in.

Dean moved into the room carrying a candle. Setting it down on a table, he moved toward the closet that Jen had used earlier. Taking a moment in the dim light, he searched it for some sort of a light source. Finally, on the top shelf he found pay dirt. Pulling down an ancient looking oil lantern, he quickly got it lit and set it on the kitchen countertop.

Sam picked up his duffle and began rummaging through the clothes he had brought. Grabbing a dry change of clothes, he quickly headed back toward the bedroom to change. Moments later feeling much better, he emerged from the bedroom to find his brother camping out in the living room. An array of cans by his side, Dean was opening the lid to something.

"You know, Dean, botulism is a killer," Sam said as he looked at the cold congealed mass the lid of the can exposed. He watched as his brother emptied the contents in a pot and then set the pot on the top of the stove.

"So's starvation, it's just soup, Sam and I'm hungry." Dean continued onto the next can adding it to the first. Within moments the room, became fragrant with the smell of vegetable beef soup. Turning toward a growling noise that came from Jen, Dean grinned and said, "And it sounds as if I'm not the only one. Grab a couple spoons and some bowls, Sam."

Sam had to admit the soup smelled good, and after all what were the chances that they would end up with food poisoning on top of everything else. After gathering up bowls and utensils, from the tidy kitchen, Sam moved back toward the fire. Glancing at his brother, he frowned, "Dean, you gotta get dry man. You're going to freeze to death."

Dean shrugged off Sam's concerns, "I wil. Let me just get you guys some grub, then I'm going do a check make sure this place is battened down."

Sam took the spoon that Dean held out of his brother's hand; shaking his head, he said, "Now. Jen can handle the soup and I'll check the windows and doors."

Dean made a move as if to grab the utensil back from Sam. Sam held it out of his reach. Not able to stand seeing his brother, soaked and freezing any longer, he went straight for the kill. Lowering his eyebrows and pushing his lip out just a bit, he gave Dean the eyes. Doing nothing more than staring, Sam waited.

Dean rolled his eyes in frustration when Sammy made the face. Unable to resist, he began rifling through his bag, pulling out dry jeans and socks, mumbling thanks to his brother, when he tossed him a flannel shirt. Without a thought, he began shrugging out of his wet coat, and flannel shirt. His tee shirt went next and he had his hands on the button of his jeans when he heard Sam clear his throat.

Glancing toward his brother, he caught a glimpse of Jen avidly staring at him. Flashing the girl a quick grin, he turned, grabbed his clothes, and headed for one of the back bedrooms.

Jen had been nearly asleep, as she had listened to the boys bickering good-naturedly. It was only as she heard the sound of clothing hit the floor that she had fully woken up to see Dean, stripping off his shirt and about to drop his pants.

Jen had seen plenty of boys without their shirts. It seemed as if the boys of her generation loved nothing more than to parade around, showing off their skinny, white, bodies. But, none of those boys could ever hope to compare to Dean.

Wide shoulders tapered into a neat waist, muscles stretched and bunched as he lifted his shirt over his head. Tanned skin and firm abs completed the perfection. Sighing loudly, she couldn't help but stare as he gathered up his clothes and headed into one of the bedrooms.

Sam held a bowl of soup to Jen, noticing her stare he shook his head. Calling her name, he nudged her shoulder with the bowl.

Jen became aware of Sam with a start, accepting the soup, she was glad for the dim light. Her blush was so fierce it made her feel as if she were glowing. Trying to take her mind off what she had seen, she asked Sam. "So I asked earlier, what do you guys do?"

Sam quickly shoved a spoonful of soup into his mouth and chewed slowly; gesturing toward his mouth, he was relieved to see the girl's attention was drawn once more towards the bedroom. Reminding himself to have Dean strip anytime they needed a distraction, he made sure his mouth was full once more as she pulled her gaze from the bedroom door.

Dean emerged feeling better, dry and alert, he set his mind to the problem at hand. Okay, he amended to himself, problems. Grabbing a bowl of soup from his brother, he groaned in pleasure at the first bite. Intent on eating it was only after he had finished half the bowl that he noticed both Sam and Jen staring at him. Raising an eyebrow, he asked, "What?"

Jen couldn't help but sigh as she answered, "Sam said you'd tell me what you guys do for a living." Noticing the covert looks the brothers were sending each other, Jen laughed, "What are you spies or something?"

Dean chuckled, "No of course not, we just don't like to talk about what we do right, Sam?" Dean said neatly throwing the ball into Sam's court.

Sam quickly took an obscene spoonful of soup, gesturing toward his full mouth; he indicated that Dean should go on.

Gritting his teeth Dean blurted out, "We're private eyes." Unwilling to say more, he waited to see what she had to say."

Jen's face lit up, "Really, like Veronica Mars? That is sooo cooool. Are you like on a case right now? Tracking someone down."

Dean looked toward Sam, hoping for help and noticed his brother's nod, "Yeah, something like that. We travel a lot and like to make our way through towns unnoticed. You get more information that way."

Jen nodded as if that inane statement made perfect sense. "Wait until I tell all my friends at school that I was trapped in the snow with two private dicks."

Sam inhaled quickly, choking on his soup. Dean stood and pounded his brother on the back, unable to hold back his own blush. After a moment Sam, waved him off. Dean dug two bottles of water out of one of the bags and tossed one toward Sam, the other he handed to Jen.

Sitting once more, he leaned forward and demanded Jen's attention. "All kidding aside there was something outside. I'm going to need your promise that you won't leave this cabin without Sam or me."

Jen nodded, "What's out there, I mean it's gotta be a bear, right?"

Dean nodded. "Yeah, that's probably what it was. So, you stay in here. We're going to take turns keeping watch tonight so you don't need to worry."

Jen turned a megawatt smile in Dean's direction. "I know I don't need to worry, Dean. I know you'll keep me safe, you, and Sam I mean."

This time it was a sip of water that choked Sam, and Dean pounded him on the back harder than was strictly necessary. Settling back on the couch, the three of them quickly finished eating. Every now and again, Dean would add more logs to the stove. After a while, he noticed that Jen's eyes were getting heavy. He hoped that the young girl would go to sleep soon, so that he could salt the windows and doors. Just as he was sure she had slipped off to sleep, he was startled to hear her voice.

"Although, maybe it's the lady," Jen said with a laugh.

Dean felt a chill race down his spine, teeth clenched he asked, "The lady?"

Jen snorted a bit; snuggling down on the couch, she closed her eyes. "Yeah, kids at school claim these woods are haunted by a lady. Supposedly, she goes around, killing anyone she meets. It's only because a couple of people have gone missing. I mean me and my brother hiked this area plenty of times and we never saw anything."

Dean closed his eyes for a moment. He really had not been expecting to run into trouble, bringing the gear had been more habit than anything else. Now here he was, stranded in the snow, with some bitch roaming the woods killing people.

Sam felt his stomach turn sour, for a moment he wondered if the soup really had been bad. Unfortunately, he knew it was probably a simple reaction to the thought that they were sharing these woods with a killer. Gazing at the young girl that trusted them enough to fall sound asleep, he looked toward his brother.

Meeting Dean's steely gaze, Sam nodded, whatever it was they would be ready. Standing, he headed to the kitchen intent on raiding the saltshakers.


	5. Chapter 5

They didn't have enough salt. Unable to shake the feeling that something was stalking them Dean considered their options. Finally, in desperation he grabbed his coat and boots. Sliding his feet into his cold, wet boots, he found himself thinking it would be a damn miracle if he and Sam came out of this without pneumonia. Standing, he moved toward where his brother stood. Sam was keeping watch, though the constant snowfall made visibility next to nothing.

"Stay here, keep an eye on the girl, I'm going to go raiding," Dean said as he grabbed a trash bag from the cabinet beneath the sink.

Sam began shaking his head the moment Dean spoke. "You can't, it's too dangerous, we don't have any idea what's out there. Not to mention this blizzard is nothing to mess with. You could loose your way."

Dean nodded. "You're right." Heading toward the closet once again, he brought out a sturdy rope that had been lying on the top shelf. "This'll do, it's got to be over thirty feet. I'll tie it off on something and I'll use it to find my way back."

Sam shook his head once again, opening his mouth to argue, he heard the EMF meter going off. Quickly shutting it off before it could wake the girl, Sam held back his warnings. Dean was right they needed supplies and salt wasn't about to just drop into their laps. Picking up his gloves, he handed them to Dean. "Take mine they're dry, about the only thing that is."

Dean grinned and accepted the gloves. "You keep your eyes open, Sammy. Stay alert, we've got the back end of this place covered but the front windows, and the front door are still hot spots." Dean took Jen's scarf off a nearby chair and began winding it around his head. Covering a large part of his face and his neck and ears, he grabbed his shotgun and nodded to Sam.

Sam swung open the front door, holding the shotgun; he covered his brother, while Dean made his way out into the snow. Hating to do it but knowing that he had to, Sam swung the door shut. He refused to lock it though, he knew he'd have warning before anything could make it's way through the solid log door. Watching out the window, he saw Dean disappear within moments as he was swallowed up by the snow.

Sam began his wait, glancing at his watch he made note of the time. Already counting the minutes until Dean would return, Sam's gaze never moved from the window.

888

Dean left the cabin's warmth and stepped into a nightmare, snow and ice blew against his face in near gale winds. Trailing his hand along the cabin wall, he moved around to the side of the house. He had caught a glimpse of what he thought was the nearest house, this way. Holding the rope against his side, he finally stopped between the wall's two windows. Taking the rope in one hand, he secured it to the jumble of power lines that ran down the length of the cabin wall. Taking the other end, he tied it around his own waist.

Once he was sure he was secured he moved away from the shelter of the house. Trying to walk straight was a battle that Dean had no chance of winning. Therefore, he simply did his best to go as straight as possible. Knowing that he was likely missing the next cabin, he walked until the rope was taunt. Then turning, he began fighting his way against the wind and pounding snow toward what he hoped was another house.

Keeping his mouth covered helped cut the pain in his throat and lungs from the cold. Unfortunately he was unable to protect his eyes. He found himself grateful for his long eyelashes, closing his eye all but a slit he fought his way toward a shadow.

Cursing the noise from the wind, Dean realized that the gun, he carried, was pretty much useless. He would never be able to sense any type of danger in time to fire the weapon. Trudging on, his eyes barely even open, Dean ran smack dab into the side of a building.

Rubbing his nose, to take away the sting, he quickly found a nail lodged into one of the logs. Unable to untie the frozen knot, around his waist, he pulled out his knife and simply cut through the rope. Tying it around the nail, he flattened himself against the side of the building and began searching for a way in.

Jus as Dean despaired of finding one, his fingers hit pay dirt in the form of a window. Throwing caution to the wind, he took his hunting knife and opened the windows lock in minutes. Unheeding of the possible danger, he hoisted himself in the window, sliding to the floor in a heap. Unable to do more than simply catch his breath, Dean remained on the floor.

Finally, he dragged himself to his feet, his tiredness now a weight that hung around his shoulders, trying to drag him down. Moving one-step at a time, Dean pulled out his flashlight and gazed in amazement at the storage shed he'd found himself in. For Dean it was better than a candy shop. Stacks and stacks of bright yellow fifty-pound bags of rock salt sat in one corner and in the other was a pair of snowmobiles. Gas cans and other paraphernalia were also stored in the shed. Dean moved toward the first bag of salt, slitting it open with his knife he quickly poured a large quantity into the bag he carried. Careful of the weight he stopped before the trash bag got too heavy.

He began taking stock of the shed he'd found himself in, he was glad to see that the snowmobiles seemed to be in good shape and the gas cans were full. It was as he walked around the sleds he noticed something in the corner of the room.

Aiming his flashlight toward the corner, Dean felt a chill start at the base of his spine and snake its way down his back. The dim light of his flashlight gleamed over a pair of long white cylindrical shapes. Unsure of what he was seeing he moved closer, it was as he bent forward to examine the shapes that he felt a whisper of movement from behind him.

As something fell to the ground next to him, Dean swung about, lifting the shotgun up and firing in one smooth motion. Unable to catch sight of what was in the room with him, he backed toward the window. As he did, he heard a clicking noise coming from where he had aimed and fired earlier. Trying to figure out how he was going to back out of the window, he once again, felt something fly past his face. Not willing to find out what it was he turned and dived out the window struggling to his feet in the snow.

Grabbing the rope, he quickly made his way back towards the house. The blinding white and numbing coldness enveloped him quickly. He was unable to keep watch behind him, and so he expected an attack at any minute. Hand over hand he followed the line as quickly as he was able until he thumped against the cabin. Making his way back toward the front door and Sam, he pounded against the door.

Sam had nearly dozed off when he heard the frantic pounding at the front door. Glancing out he saw Dean, whispering a prayer of relief, Sam swung the door open. Catching Dean as he practically fell in, Sam couldn't help but feel a shiver of unease over his brother's obvious anxiety.

"What?" Sam asked steadying his older brother.

Dean shook his head for a moment, unable to answer. The cold had stolen his breath and he was feeling lightheaded. Drawing ever deeper breaths, Dean finally managed to get control. "Good news is, there's salt and snowmobiles in the shed next to us. The bad news is that something else is in there also."

"What is it?" Sam asked his eyes darting toward the window once again.

Dean shook his head and moved to the bedrooms intent on checking the salt lines again. A moment later, he was back by Sam's side, his shotgun in hand. Reloading it, he said, "Saw something, but I'm not going to hazard a guess as to what. I walked right into it; I was lucky Sam that's for sure." Picking up the black trash bag, Dean marveled at the fact he'd managed to hold on to it. Moving into the kitchen, he began laying salt lines along the windowsills.

Sam nodded, his gaze once again focused out the window. He could only imagine just how close Dean had come to whatever was lurking, given the Winchester's version of luck. "Did it follow?" Sam asked grabbing the salt from his brother, and gesturing to him to get dry.

"I honestly don't know. Why don't you get some sleep? I'll keep watch," Dean said, slipping off his boots and setting them by the fire. Stripping down to a tee shirt and jeans once again, he spread his wet coat and outer clothes around the fireplace hoping they would dry.

Sam rolled his eyes, he had fallen into line with Dean one to many times lately. Firming his jaw, he said, "No."

Dean turned to him, one eyebrow raised, "No what?"

"No, I'm not slinking off to bed while you stand guard. You're exhausted. That's the reason I was driving in the first place, you haven't slept for over twenty-four hours now. Plus, you carried that girl most of the way here. You may believe you're invincible, but I'm not buying it." Sam crossed his arms and dared his brother to argue.

Dean studied Sam's face for a moment, nodding at last, he walked past Sam pounding him on the chest as he went. "Okay, Sam." Moving toward the fire, he grabbed a spare blanket and threw it down on the ground. Following it down, he quickly made himself comfortable. Or, at least as comfortable as he could on the hard wood floor. "Wake me when it's my turn to take watch."

Sighing, Dean felt sleep stealing over him, "Wake me, Sam," Were the last words he uttered before falling soundly asleep.

Sam stared at his brother, mouth agape. Closing it with a snap, Sam pulled his gaze from Dean and again began watching the snow-blurred world beyond the window. Unsure of whether his brother was simply beyond exhausted or if something more than he'd let on had happened Sam was perplexed by Dean's quick surrender.

Shrugging off his unease, Sam began making the rounds of the windows in the small cabin. Careful not to wake either Jen or Dean he also made sure to keep the fire burning.

Thankful for small favors, Sam loaded yet another log, in what seemed a near limitless supply, into the stove. Although food would soon be a problem, freezing to death in the small cabin didn't seem to be a worry.

A few hours later, Sam began stretching, trying to work his muscles as best he could, forcing his blood moving. He was hanging on by a thread and he knew that soon he would have to wake Dean to take over.

His brother was dead to the world, and Sam was trying his best to wait as long as possible. Staring out the window, he focused his eyes once more on the white world reflected in the moonlight before him.

As he watched, a slight movement caught his attention. Straining his eyes, Sam could just make out the figure of a person standing in the driving snow. Feeling every last bit of tiredness, wash away in a flood of adrenaline, Sam kept his eyes trained on the figure.

As he watched it came no closer, nor did it move away. It stood untouched by the wind that raged around it. At last, Sam blinked and the figure was gone. Unable to shake the feeling of unease, Sam made the rounds.

At last, as the sky began to lighten, Sam staggered toward Dean. Shaking his brother gently on the shoulder, he waited only until Dean was standing to take his place on the blankets. Mumbling, he said, "Saw her, standing in the snow staring at us..."

Within moments Dean heard Sam's gentle snore, tucking his brother in more fully he took up position by the window. Cursing the snow that fell unchecked from the sky, Dean began planning.


	6. Chapter 6

Jen awoke to the smell of macaroni and cheese; sniffing the air appreciatively, she also noticed the lingering smell of coffee. Not sure, which she was more interested in, she sat up from her slumped position on the couch.

Sitting on the top of the wood stove, was an old-fashioned coffee pot, steam pouring from the spout. Glancing around, she took note of the weak sunshine that was coming in through the windows. Standing a bit self-consciously in her flannel pajamas, she walked toward the front window and glanced out. Pulling aside the curtain, she couldn't help but gasp at the world of white that greeted her. Disheartened to see that the snow was still falling in a steady sheet she turned as a voice behind her spoke.

"Coffee's on, and we're having Mac 'n Cheese for breakfast, dig in while it's hot." Dean walked in from the back door of the house, covered in snow, carrying an armload of wood. Sam followed also carrying a large stack. Unable to meet Dean's eyes after the stupid way she had stared at him the night before, Jen quickly gathered up her clothes and headed toward one of the back bedrooms.

Changing quickly into the now dry clothes, Jen ran a hand through her short black hair, hoping it wasn't sticking up as it usually did in the morning. Vowing to grab a knit cap, before the boys got a good look at her, Jen gathered up her pajamas, and walked back into the living room.

Turning from her bag, she tugged a purple and cream knit hat on over her unruly hair, taking the cup of coffee that Sam offered she winced after her first sip. "It's strong."

Dean looked over from his position at the front window and grinned. "Yeah it is," he said with a wink. "I gotta say I'm in heaven. I think I'm taking that pot with us when we go, from now on I'll brew my own."

Sam rolled his eyes. "It's not coffee, it's sludge. Careful, Jen, we've got no toothbrushes and you'll end up with a mouthful of grit if you drink the last few sips."

Jen grinned, the brother's banter putting her at ease, picking up a bowl she swiftly served herself some of the creamy Mac n' cheese. Sitting cross-legged on a wooden chair she began eating, sighing in pleasure.

Dean and Sam exchanged grins while they watched the petite girl tuck into her breakfast. Neither one failing to notice just how much the girl enjoyed her food. Sam moved toward the fireplace, adding logs to the stove once again. They had flown through the wood that had been stacked in the wood box, but luckily, there was an ample pile outside on the porch.

Mixing the wet wood with the dry would enable them to stay warm. Straightening from his crouch, he accepted a bowl from Dean. Tucking into the warm, cheesy shells, Sam ate with enthusiasm. It was only as he accepted seconds from Dean that he noticed his brother had done nothing more than sip at his coffee.

Knowing that he had no chance of getting a straight answer, Sam wandered over to the kitchen and began randomly going through the cabinets. It took only a moment for him to realize just why Dean had passed on breakfast. Sam glared at his brother, who had the audacity to simply raise an eyebrow.

Instead of taking the time to berate him however, he handed his half-finished bowl over to Dean, who stared at him for a moment before accepting the bowl and quickly finishing it.

Dean hated eating the last bit of Sam's breakfast, but there wasn't going to be a lunch and only beef broth and rice for dinner so he figured he'd better have something. Catching Sam's eye, Dean looked pointedly toward Jen and shook his head slightly. Satisfied when Sam nodded in understanding, Dean placed his bowl in the sink. He did not intend to let Jen know just how dire their predicament really was. He was intent on getting the girl through this in one piece and as far as he was concerned, that included her naivety.

Resuming his post at the window, Dean was once again troubled to see that their stalker was back. Apparently, whatever it was wasn't confined to nighttime visits. Dean was startled out of his thoughts by Jen.

"So what's the plan?" She asked bouncing lightly on her toes. Carrying her dirty dishes to the sink, she couldn't help but feel a thrill of excitement over finding herself in lost in a blizzard with two such good looking older guys. She figured she would be able to live off this story until graduation at least.

Dean and Sam exchanged glances, finally Sam answered, "Not much until the snow lets up but, Dean did find a couple of snowmobiles parked in the shed."

Jen frowned as she moved toward the window that Dean seemed intent on guarding. Smiling slightly she tried to ease past the older man to look out the window. Instead of moving from his post though, Dean simply stared at her. Jen became so flustered that she turned and headed into the kitchen instead.

Intending to open the back door and grab a scoop of snow from oustide to wash the dishes with, she was surprised to see Sam suddenly in front of her. She wasn't even sure how he'd gotten there so fast, seeing as he had been near the fireplace moments before.

Grinning, she moved to go past him, only to find that he was in front of her again. "What's up, Sam?" Jen asked her eyes widening a bit at Sam's strange behavior.

"Uh, nothing. Just wanted to see what you were doing." Sam tapped his fingers against his thigh a few times. Smiling, he added, "I'm bored, thought you might like to..." Sam glanced around the room, trying to ignore Dean's smirk. "Play a game," Sam finished lamely.

The younger girl's face lit up as she grabbed Sam's hand. Dragging him toward the closet, she pulled open the door and began rooting through the games. Sam rolled his eyes toward Dean, begging for help, but was met with a smirk and a headshake.

Dean nearly laughed at the look of terror on Sam's face, as the young girl latched onto his hand and pulled him across the room. As far as Dean was concerned though, Sam was welcome to keep the girl occupied all afternoon. They weren't going to risk leaving the cabin till the snow stopped, and until then, the less the girl wandered around the less chance she had of noticing the woman in the snow.

Jen grabbed two games off the shelf and moved toward the kitchen table. Plopping down on a seat, she beamed up at Sam. "Which would you rather Trivial Pursuit or Risk?"

Sam glanced at the two games, held out before him, and actually felt his interest rise. He had fallen in love with Trivial Pursuit in College, but had quickly run out of people who wanted to play against him. Reaching his hand out toward the game, he was surprised as another hand reached forward to slap his wrist.

"Risk sounds like fun, count me in," Dean said pulling up a chair, his post quickly forgotten at the prospect of conquering the world.

Sam groaned and leaned back in his chair, arms crossed he glared at Dean. "Nope, no way I'm playing Risk, Dean. You always win and you always have to shove my face in it."

"Oh, come on, Sammy. You're just pissed cause no one wants to play your brain game." Dean turned toward Jen. "He's a font of useless knowledge, Jen. Unbeatable..." Dean rattled the dice and grinned. "Come on, Jen you know you want to try and beat me."

Jen couldn't help but grin, as Dean waggled his eyebrows at her. Finally, she reached her hand out and accepted the three red dice from him. "I'll warn you, though, I've beat my brother lodes of times, he always calls me little Napoleon."

Sam rolled his eyes at the two of them and stood up. Intent on moving toward the window, he stopped as Dean gripped his arm.

"Come on, Sammy, you know you want to beat me. This time I promise I'll let you win," Dean said with a wink.

Sam rolled his eyes and sat, Dean had been promising to 'let' Sam win for years, and it had yet to happen. However, he also knew his brother was keen on keeping Jen calm and what better way to waste time than playing Risk. Slapping Dean's hand away from the black men, Sam set about preparing his strategy.

888

As Sam stood and stretched, he glanced at Dean who was now standing as he rolled his dice. His big brother was incapable of sitting for any length of time unless it was behind the wheel of his car. However, for Dean, the thrill of taking over every country overcame his hatred of inactivity. Sam couldn't help but smile as the battle waged on without him. As soon as he and Dean had become old enough for their dad to leave them to hunt, the Winchester boy's had begun wiling away the hours with board games.

Dean had taught Sam how to read, add, and subtract well before any of his classmates by playing games. Sam could still remember how Dean could weasel even the toughest motel clerk into forking over whatever game or deck of cards were available to the young brothers.

Moving toward the window, Sam noted that the area was clear, indicating to Dean that he was going to check the other windows he walked toward the bedroom.

Jen watched as her lone continent, Australia, came under attack from Dean's soldiers. Pitting her dice against his, she prayed to hold on just a bit longer. She had managed to wipe out Sam, but Dean was proving to be a tougher strategist. Bold and unrelenting he trusted in his dice rolls to keep him conquering the board. Frowning as Dean knocked out the largest of her armies, Jen knew it was time to admit defeat. Pushing away from the board, Jen stood. "That's it I give. You win."

Dean shifted his weight and grinned evilly, "You ought to be thankful you're not Sam or you'd be treating me to another rendition of Older Brother's are always right."

Jen laughed at Dean's easygoing manner, "Like it'd be the first time." She began gathering up the game, when she noticed Dean tense up. "What's wrong?"

Dean glanced at his watch, surprised to see it had been over ten minutes since Sam had left the room. Smiling slightly at Jen, he said, "Listen why don't you put away the game and then lie down. We may end up walking out of here yet and I'd like you to be well-rested."

Jen bit back a yawn. "I'm not tired," she said hating the sulky sound of her voice. At Dean's smug glance, Jen knew it would be useless to refuse. Putting the game away, she moved back toward the couch. Laying down she pulled the blanket over her shoulders and stared sleepily at the fire.

Dean waited for a moment, only moving toward the back bedroom once he saw Jen's eyes begin to droop. Not calling out for fear of waking the young girl, Dean quickly scanned first one bedroom then the other for Sam. Not finding any sign of his brother, he moved toward the bathroom, hoping he was behind the slightly closed door.

Dean pushed open the door, and felt a wave of fear move through him. Even before his eyes registered the empty room, he felt the air from the open window. Glancing through, he noted the snow beneath the window was trampled. Unable to see much in the late afternoon snow, he hoisted himself out the window and into the falling snow. Turning he lowered the window behind him. Searching the ground for any sign of Sam, Dean saw a path leading away from the house to toward the shed.

His eyes moved from the path in the snow back to the cabin. As much as he hated to admit it, he couldn't leave Jen unprotected in order to find Sam. Moving back toward the house at a jog, Dean couldn't stop from feeling as if he was deserting Sam.


	7. Chapter 7

Dean slogged thru the snow, not bothering with the window, he moved around the wrap-around porch to the front door. Bursting through, he called out, "Get your gear on Jen." Heading toward the duffels that were heaped by the front door, Dean quickly pulled out his favorite shotgun, checking the load he filled his pockets with shells. Pulling on a pair of gloves and his heavy coat, he turned expecting to see Jen.

Instead, he was met with silence. Turning in a circle Dean's eyes took in the empty living room and kitchen.

"Shit, come on here. I'm just looking for one goddamn break." He said aloud before moving toward the back bedrooms.

A cursory glance was all it took to see the house was empty. Dean stopped for a moment, pushing away the rising panic. Returning to the living room, he scanned the room again, only slower and more intently.

Yatzee, he thought to himself, as he moved toward the kitchen window. The curtains fluttered madly as cold air poured through the open window. Dean approached the window, fearing what he would see. Sure enough, the snow beneath the window was disturbed. As with Sam's disappearance, a path in the snow led toward the shed.

Dean didn't know what pissed him off more, the fact that he'd once again managed to loose his brother, or that Jen's innocence would surely be shattered by whatever had dragged the poor girl off. Quickly formulating a plan of action, Dean threw the weapons bag over his shoulder, and headed for the front door. He figured his best bet would be to approach the cabin unseen. At least he hoped that would be his best bet.

Dean eased out the front door, sticking to the porch. He knew that snow would make for slow going so he opted to make his way around the house before dealing with it. The late afternoon sun was shining weakly, unable to offer any warmth. Taking a moment to study the surrounding woods, he watched for any sign of either the lady or Sam and Jen.

888

Sam awoke with a groan, without opening his eyes he took stock of his situation. Headache, check, aching body, check, unable to move his arms and legs, check, damn, he thought to himself. Able to wiggle only the slightest bit he realized that he was wrapped head to toe in something. Unable to see what was binding him, he only knew that it was strong.

At last, he knew he could no longer delay opening his eyes. He did so carefully, not wanting to alert whatever shared the small space with him. His cheek lay against a rough wooden floor smelling of oil and gasoline. He could see one grimy window and a roughly stacked pile of salt, in fifty-pound bags, against the wall. He could also see a long, white, cylindrical, form lying on the ground next to him. He didn't bother to hold back a curse when he noticed a bright purple knit hat sticking out of the top.

Jen, shit, she was here with him. So much for protecting the girl, Sam knew that Dean had to be in a near panic by now, having lost both himself and their young charge.

"Jen, come on, Jen, wake up," Sam called out to her urging her to return to consciousness. Wiggling a bit, he was able to squeeze his hand in his jean pocket. Flipping open the pocketknife he always carried, he began maneuvering his hand in order to cut through the bindings holding him.

Jen cowered in her wrappings, content for the moment to believe she was wrapped in her sheets safely at home. Sam's called to her, the urgency in his voice forced her to acknowledge the truth. Something had taken her from the kitchen. And now here she was wrapped in some sort of cocoon, when the last thing she could remember was walking toward the kitchen. As the panic that she had been keeping at bay flooded her senses she called out, "Sam, help me please."

Sam could hear the fear in Jen's voice; wanting to ease her panic, he used the voice. The one that Dean assured him had magical properties, when used on frightened people. "I'm here, Jen. It's okay, I'm going to get you loose, just hold on."

Jen's panic eased a bit a Sam's reassurance. "Where are we and where's Dean?"

Sam hesitated before replying, where's Dean, was the question of the moment. His brother would not stand by and wait for Sam to rescue himself. So Sam knew to expect him to either come blasting through the door any moment or else, Sam had to face the possibility that whatever had gotten him had also gotten Dean. Not able to voice his concerns to the girl Sam simply said, "He'll be here Jen, just wait and see."

Sam gripped the knife awkwardly in his left hand, placing the blade carefully on the bindings he began to saw away at them. As he did, he listened, using every hunting trick in the book, he kept aware of his surroundings. Helpless or not he still wanted a warning before he was attacked again.

"Sam, I hear something. What's that noise?" Jen asked unable to hide the shakiness in her voice.

Sam once again used his most soothing tone. "It's just me Jen; I'm cutting thru the ropes." Sam actually should have said he was trying, because honestly he wasn't getting anywhere. Not willing to quite he kept trying.

888

Dean brought his shotgun up, easing off the porch he followed the path that had been made in the snow. The path looked as if it had been caused by something being dragged away from the house. There was no doubt in Dean's mind that Sam was the one that had been dragged. At six foot four, his 'little' brother was not someone easily carried. Sticking to the path, he found he was able to move through the snow a little easier. As he walked, he cursed the evening light that barely filtered through the trees.

He found the shadows cast by the trees and house a distraction. He was roughly halfway between the house and shed, when one of the shadows, suddenly reached for him. Darting left, he felt something snag on his coat, as pain ripped through his shoulder.

Ducking low, he didn't bother stopping his headlong flight. Pushing the pain he felt to the back of his mind, Dean burst through the shed door.

888

"Sam, I'm scared can you talk to me?" Jen sounded so much younger than her seventeen years that Sam immediately cast about for something to say.

"What's your older brother's name?" Sam asked a small thrill shooting through him as he managed to saw through a couple of strands. Not willing to acknowledge that at the rate he was going it would be two days before he was free.

Jen's voice hitched only slightly as she answered, "Joe, his name's Joe."

Sam continued working, the muscles in his forearm already aching from the awkward position he held the knife in. "How old is Joe?"

"Twenty-one, his birthday was last Tuesday." Jen answered quietly thoughts of her brother bringing a slight smile to her face.

Sam again worked his knife through more strands, better able to move his hand and wrist. "So he's four years older than you."

Jen lay wishing she was facing Sam but unable to roll. "Yeah, he takes care of me, you know. He's always checking up on me, even now he still keeps tabs on me."

Sam couldn't help but relate to Jen's words. As far back as he could remember Dean had been the only constant in a life full of uncertainty. Later, in middle school, his older brother had been the only thing that had stood between short, chubby, geeky, Sam and constant bullying.

It was only as he had entered high school and had begun coming into his own, that he had felt stifled by Dean's presence. If he was honest with himself it had been one of the many reasons Sam had felt such a need to breakaway. Sam had needed to become his own person and he hadn't been able to do it with Dean standing behind him, ready to smooth the way for him at any given moment.

He would never forget the feeling of panic that had overwhelmed him as he had walked to his first class at Stanford. He had been at school for a month and he loved it, he was making friends and was living the life he had always wanted. But then, the morning of his first class, panic had seized him and he'd been unable to walk into the lecture hall.

Standing outside the building, gulping for air, he had almost walked away from it all. He'd come that close to throwing everything he'd worked for away simply because his big brother wasn't there to tell him that everything was going to be okay. Without that familiar reassurance, Sam didn't think he would make it. And after the way he had left home, he figured the chances of getting such a reassurance would be next to nothing.

Wiping the sweat that had beaded his forehead, Sam had begun walking away from the building. He had slowed when a familiar feeling had overcome him. Turning in a circle he had strained his eyes for a glimpse of what he knew was out there. He had finally spotted him parked near one of the other buildings. Dean had been leaning against the hood of the car, every aspect of him, from the leather jacket to the black biker boots, looking out of place. Sam watched for a moment, noting the way woman seemed to stare at him and men seemed to avoid him.

Receiving the reassurance, he had so desperately needed Sam had drawn himself up to his full height, nodding once he had turned and walked into his first class. That had been the last time he had seen Dean, but Sam knew that it hadn't been the last time Dean had seen him. Sam smiled and said, "Yeah, he'll never stop doing that you know. I'm Twenty-two and Dean still checks up on me if I in the bathroom too long."

"Well, crap, Sam; I wouldn't have to if you wouldn't keep disappearing on me," Dean said his voice hoarse with worry as he burst through the shed door. Leaning against the door, for a moment he focused his gaze out the window. Unable to see the creature that had attacked him, Dean turned toward his brother.

Sam couldn't stop the grin that lit his features as he felt his brother kneel by his side. "I don't know what the hell this stuff is, Dean, but it's a bitch to cut."

Dean pulled out his hunting knife, grasping a handful of the sticky white strands he began to cut Sam loose from his cocoon. "What the hell happened, Sam?" he asked, wincing as he cut, the movement reminding him of his injured shoulder.

Sam shook his head as much as he was able. "I'll tell you what I'm not really sure. One moment I was watching her from the house, and the next thing I knew I was climbing thru the window."

"Shit, she put a whammy on you. What the hell are we dealing with Sam?" Dean continued working on the strands, his mind working overtime to figure out what was going on.

After Dean cut through the final threads that encircled Sam's entire body, he then began the arduous task of pulling the sticky threads away from Sam.

"Hurry, Dean. Whatever it was, it's not gone for good, I'm sure," Sam said helping Dean now that his hands were free.

Dean stepped away from Sam, letting his brother finish up himself. Turning toward Jen he gently rolled her over onto her back. Smiling down at her he said, "Isn't wandering off one of your brother's rules?" Dean began cutting the young girl loose.

"If it's not it should be," the girl muttered as she struggled against the white colored threads.

"Uh, Dean?" Sam called to his brother as he moved toward two other wrapped shapes. Glancing over his shoulder, he met Dean's eyes.

Dean helped Jen to her feet, gripping her shoulder in one hand he asked, "Why'd you leave the house, Jen?"

Jen put a hand to her head and dropped down on the pile of bagged salt. "I'm not sure, you went to check on Sam and the next thing I remember is waking up here." Jen's eyes seemed to focus on her surroundings for the first time, her eyes alighting on the two other wrapped shapes. "Oh, my god you have to cut them free," She said scrambling from her seat.

Dean wrapped a hand around her waist and said, "Jen, there's nothing we can do for them. They've been here too long." Dean kept his voice low and calm, trying to soothe the tension that radiated through the young girl. Signaling Sam to cut open the cocoons, Dean purposely twisted his body, ensuring that Jen wouldn't be able to see anything.

Sam gingerly moved toward the first shape, taking Dean's knife he began cutting open the cocoon. Turning to Dean, he ensured that Jen's line of sight was blocked. Pulling back to the sides that he had cut, Sam swore fiercely. Unsurprisingly the cocoon held a person, a man from the looks of it. His face was sunken, his skin dry and brittle looking, and he sported to large holes on the side of his neck.

Dean glanced behind him, careful to keep Jen turned away from the gruesome sight. Exchanging glances with Sam, he turned Jen by the shoulders, forcing her to face the door. "Alright, we've got to get out of here, before it comes back. Sam, you help Jen."

Sam nodded and rose to his feet, his eyes straying once more to the enshrouded bodies. "There's nothing to be done for them now, Sam."

Sam nodded knowing his brother spoke the truth. "I know Dean, it's just. What a horrible way to die." Sam said moving to his brother's side.

It was then that Sam noticed the punctures in Dean's coat. Pointing to where the down filling was pushing out of the rips, Sam asked, "What happened?"

Dean could have cursed; he had hoped Sam wouldn't notice his injury until they were all safely back at the house. "I'm fine, Sam."

Sam rolled his eyes at his brother's answer. Ignoring Dean's protest, he pulled the older man's coat off his shoulder. Sam frowned at the two punctures Dean sported in his long sleeve tee shirt. He could see the skin beneath had two large holes, both bleeding sluggishly. Pulling his brother's coat back into place Sam snorted. "You're fine, right that's why you've got two holes in your shoulder. We're going to have to get them cleaned up."

Dean simply nodded not bothering to answer, "Yeah, well let's just concentrate on getting to the house. You too aren't dressed for a hike out of here." Glancing at Jen, he asked, "You okay, kiddo?"

Jen swallowed hard and then nodded, "Yup, I'm good. Let's just get out of here."

Dean exchanged glances with Sam, nodding he said, "You heard the lady, Sam, let's move."


	8. Chapter 8

"Okay, listen up. We're going to make a break for it, follow the path I made getting here, it'll be easier going. Jen, you stay between Sam and I and no matter what, keep your eyes on the ground in front of you. Whatever's going on, I don't want this thing drawing you away from us," Dean ordered, his voice making it clear that he expected to her to obey.

Jen drew comfort from the familiar tone, nodding her head, she stepped between the boys and prepared herself. She had woken here with no coat or gloves and now that her fear had tapered off a bit, she was freezing. Unsure of nearly everything else, at least she could draw comfort from the men that seemed intent on protecting her. "I'm ready."

Nodding to Sam, Dean carefully pulled open the shed door. While they had been inside it had become darker, only a bit of moonlight lit the night. Eyes roving, Dean studied the woods that were on either side of them. Shotgun in his good hand, he grabbed Jen with his other. Leading the way, he moved out into the night.

Sam followed, his eyes scanning the surrounding area for any sign of the lady, not to mention the thing that had managed to puncture Dean's shoulder. Dean and Jen led the way; the girl slightly behind Dean's body, Sam was surprised by how well she seemed to be holding up. There weren't many seventeen year olds that would fall into line as quickly. He figured it must be Dean's influence, after all big brothers' all had one thing in common, and that was bossing around younger siblings.

Jen pushed back the rush of panic she felt as she followed Dean into the night. Grasping his hand, she held on as tight as she could. The heat from his palm helping to keep her grounded. Although she missed Joe terribly, she couldn't help but feel relieved that she had Dean and Sam with her. The two men exuded confidence and seemed to know what they were doing, so really things could be worse.

That was Jen's last thought as they rounded the porch, the next thing she knew they burst through the front door. Panting from running through the snow, she dropped onto the couch. Shivering, she rested while she watched the boys fortify the cabin.

Sam barreled through the door, behind both Jen and Dean. Slamming it shut, he threw the lock and quickly grabbed the salt bag Dean had been using earlier. Re-laying the line across the door, he dropped the bag to the ground and joined Dean in checking the weapons.

"Get dressed, Jen, put on everything. Those sleds are no guarantee we're not going to end up walking, so you need to stay warm." Dean turned toward the couch when he got no response. Not sure, what was wrong at first Dean questioned "Jen?" The young girl sat, her body still as a stone, her wide eyes fixated on the ceiling.

It was then that Dean heard a clicking noise, following Jen's line of sight, he grabbed the girl off the couch and was across the room in seconds. "Sam."

Sam glanced up in confusion, having missed Jen's odd behavior. Turning now, he glanced at the ceiling where a clicking noise could be heard. Staring in horror, Sam stumbled to where Dean and Jen stood. "What the hell, Dean?" Sam asked unable to look away.

Dean shook his head; tucking Jen behind him, he aimed his shotgun. "Get our gear, Sam, I'll cover you."

Sam stood for a moment, before easing the gun out of Dean's grip. Grinning nervously, he said, "You get the gear, Dean, and I'll cover you. Don't want you straining that shoulder."

Dean swallowed. "Fine, if you're too chicken I'll do it."

Sam continued looking up. "Yup that's right, Dean, I'm a chicken. Hell, I'll even lay you an egg later so long as I don't have to go under that thing."

Shooting his brother a glare, Dean took a breath. Moving quickly he gathered their snow gear, plus the packs they'd brought. He made trip after trip, dropping the gear by the front door, the clicking sound providing enough incentive to hurry.

"Jen, get dressed and hurry," Dean ordered as he dropped the young girl's belongings at her feet.

Jen stood, tucked behind Sam's back. She heard Dean's words but for a moment, she simply couldn't obey. As black dots began invading her vision, she began panting trying and failing to calm herself. It was only as Sam pushed her head down, between her knees that she realized she had almost passed out.

Hearing Sam's rough plea to "keep it together." Jen worked to slow her breathing, feeling better; she stood straight again and began putting on every bit of clothing she had brought.

Sam had heard Jen panting in terror, pushing the girls head down with his free hand he prayed that she didn't pass out. Urging Dean on, Sam kept his eyes on the ceiling. Finally, Dean had their supplies gathered, and Jen was dressed. Handing the shotgun over to Dean, he shrugged on his jacket and gloves topping it off with a knit hat, and then nodded to Dean.

"Okay, Dean, what now?" Sam asked as he began loading the duffle bags on his shoulder, keeping Jen's black bag, he gripped the young girl's hand.

Dean ignored Sam's question for the moment, his intent had been to head out, regardless of the darkness. Now though he worried about just how many creatures would be roaming the forest. Staring above he studied the web that splayed across the corner of the room. The web was made of gossamer threads the thickness of yarn; it swayed slightly in the wind.

To say that it was big would have been the understatement of the year. The thing was huge, stretching almost to the floor it also spread out across the ceiling. The clicking noise seemed to come from a large sac the size of a large burlap bag that was stuck in the center of the web.

Pushing Sam and Jen out behind him, Dean had the sudden urge to light the house on fire, ensuring that whatever was in the sac died. The only thing stopping him was the fact that the structure was so close to the shed. If Dean lit it up, then there was a chance that it would cause the shed to catch, and with all the flammables, not to mention the sleds, inside it would go up like a roman candle.

"Well, I'm thinking I'm going to shoot that thing full of salt and see what happens. You two ready." Raising the shotgun, Dean aimed and fired.

The sac dropped like a stone behind the couch. Sam readied himself to run, one hand clutching Jen, and the other his .45. He watched as his brother stepped around the couch, gun at the ready.

Dean rounded the couch carefully unable to tear his gaze from the sac that now writhed and pulsed. The clicking noise continued and was now being accompanied by a squealing sound. Taking aim, Dean watched as a slim black leg poked through the white sac. Quicker than a blink, more legs began poking through the sac. Before Dean had a chance to fire the sac broke open completely and a stream of black bodies flooded out of it, scattering across the room.

Tamping down the shudder that ran through his body at the sight of the twenty or thirty black spiders that now skittered around the room, Dean fired. Focusing on the critters,he began shooting. After emptying the shotgun, he dropped it in favor of the handgun he pulled from inside his jacket pocket. Ignoring the sound of Sam's shots, he concentrated on getting every last creepy son of a bitch.

Moving to the left Dean set out after one that had crawled beneath the stove. Before he could bend down though, he tripped, falling face first. He barely managed to catch himself before bashing his face on the dusty floor. Firing from where he lay, he killed the spider under the stove.

Trying to move his feet, Dean found he was unable. A glance over his shoulder showed him why.

"Son of a bitch." Dean said as he quickly pulled out his hunting knife. He swung his legs about, shaking his head at the silk thread that was wrapped around them. Using the knife he cut the thread, not even flinching as Sam shot a spider down dead, no more than a couple of feet from him.

Finally, in a haze of smoke, Dean stood glancing toward one of the fallen creatures. Toeing it with his boot, he shook his head at what could only be described as a spider.

The creature was the size of a cat and seemed to have ten legs instead of the customary eight. Its eyes were huge, large, black, and reflective, and two large fangs protruded from its mouth. Dean grimaced as his hand involuntarily went to his shoulder wound, which was still seeping blood and had begun burning.

Turning towards where his brother stood, his arm wrapped around Jen's shoulders, Dean smiled smugly. "Dude, I got more than you." Putting away his pistol, he once again picked up the shotgun, and quickly reloaded.

Sam couldn't help the defensive tone in his voice when he answered, "It's not a contest. Besides I was protecting Jen."

Dean glanced over at Sam, rolling his eyes theatrically he snorted. "Whatever lets you sleep at night, kiddo." Dean stopped baiting his brother once he noted that Jen was standing unaided and was holding back a grin. Tipping the girl a wink, he nodded toward Sam, "Sammy won't admit it but spiders freak him out. That's why he was holding on so tight."

Sam ignored the smug look on his brother's face. Re-loading quickly, he found he couldn't ignore the pity on young Jen's face as she solemnly admitted to also being afraid of spiders. Sam nodded tightly at the girl not bothering to correct her misconception, even though Dean was laughing fit to burst. "So, laughing boy, you planning on telling me what we're dealing with."

Dean's laughter trailed off in fits and starts as he went around with his knife, insuring that each spider had in fact died. Ignoring the gore that followed each stabbing, Dean knelt beside a spider and thrust the knife into its abdomen. "Don't tell me you haven't figured it out yet?"

Sam shook his head, his face a study in concentration. "I'm drawing a blank here."

Dean stood, after wiping his blade on the couch; he then distastefully studied his hands. They were coated in a layer of blackish blood, grimacing he moved towards the front door. Easing it open he reached for a handful of snow, carrying it into the house, he moved toward the kitchen sink. Using the snow, he quickly wiped off the blood.

Sam watched as Dean proceeded to wipe his hands clean. Knowing that the snow wouldn't be enough, Sam grabbed a bar of soap, and the bucket they'd been melting snow in earlier. Moving toward the sink, he bumped Dean out of the way. Filling one side of the two-sided sink, he used the water in the bucket to fill it partially. Grasping his brother's work worn hands, he proceeded to soap them up careful to remove every trace of the blood.

"So, Dean," Sam said casually. "Were you planning on telling me that the blood burns?" Sam tilted his face toward his brother, impatience written all over his face.

Dean smiled grimly and shrugged, "Soaps working, the stings almost gone."

Sam nodded and began carefully rinsing Dean's hands, finally he asked, "And the shoulder, you going to stand there and say it's not hurting?"

Hazel eyes met green, in a silent battle. Finally glancing toward Jen, Dean simply nodded. Sam immediately relented, nodding he said, "Fine, but this isn't the end of it."

Dean pulled his hands from Sam's grasp, batting the kid's shoulder, he said, "Trust me, Sam, I promise to play patient for you later, but for now we've got to get this place locked down. It's too late to head out tonight."

Sam stared at his older brother for a moment, trying to tamp down his familiar frustration. He watched as Dean began fortifying the cabin, gathering supplies, totally focused on the job at hand. Yet, as Sam watched, he noted the way that Dean took the time to comfort Jen. Typical Dean, he thought, there his brother was worn from lack of sleep and worry, his shoulder aching and most likely burning and he was doing his damnedest to make a complete stranger feel better.

Sam drew in a breath; he sometimes wondered how Dean had managed to stay alive during the years Sam had been in school. Shaking himself out of his reverie, Sam set about helping Dean, intent on easing his way. Making a mental note, to get Dean's shoulder fixed up as soon as he could Sam asked, "So you seem to know what this thing is."

Dean paused in his efforts to move a gun cabinet across the front door and wiped his brow. Glancing down at his hands he was glad to see that the redness was quickly fading, he could only hope that the burning that had begun earlier in his shoulder would also fade. Putting on his best grin he said, "It's a Kumo."


	9. Chapter 9

Sam's brow furrowed at Dean's declaration, unsure of what a Kumo was Sam said, "Okay." His brother's near maniacal grin was starting to freak him out. "Dude, stop grinning and tell us what it is."

Dean couldn't help the grin, "Do you remember when I was into samurai? You were about seven and I was reading you stories about a Japanese hero named Reiko?" Dean had spent about six months completely fascinated with Japanese folklore. He would read everything he could find and had in turn shared the stories with Sam.

Sam thought back, vaguely remembering Dean's enthusiasm over anything remotely Japanese. "I remember you were overly fond of the Godzilla movies."

Dean rolled his eyes, "God, how did we end up as brothers, how many times do I have to tell you Godzilla is the definitive..."

"Okay, Dean, we get it, Godzilla rules, now, can you please tell me what a Kumo is?" Sam snorted interrupting his brother's lecture.

Dean pulled up short, "Yeah, well a Kumo's a spider demon. Real nasty buggers they can take on any human form, and they like to kill." Dean couldn't help the bit of awe that crept into his voice. "See they trap you in their webs, then they inject a poison into you that turns your insides to mush, then they suck everything out. Really, nasty buggers. From what I understand the adults can be the size of a..."

Dean never got to finish his statement, he was interrupted by the sight of Jen running for the bathroom a hand over her mouth. Wincing, he said to Sam, "Sorry, listen help her out and I'll get rid of these little guys. We should be safe enough, she'll try and trick us into the open, but won't risk facing us head on."

Sam grimaced a bit, "You don't think Mommy dearest is going to be a bit pissed, since we just opened fire on her young?"

"That's the beauty of these things Sam, they're killable, no special mumbo-jumbo needed. You just stab or shoot the buggers dead." Dean held out his hands, "Easy as pie."

Sam lifted a brow and glared at his over confident brother, "You know when this whole thing turns to crap, I am going to blame you for saying that."

Dean grinned even broader. "Trust me, Sam." Turning he headed toward the kitchen, intent on getting a trash bag.

Sam shook his head as he went to check on Jen, hoping his brother was right but fearing the Winchester 'luck' would prove him wrong. Sam knocked lightly on the half-open bathroom door. He heard the lid of the toilet shut and then Jen muttered a welcome. Opening the door a bit, he felt a stab of pity at the sight before him. Jen had her cheek resting against the tub, the color of her skin rivaling the white of the tub. Tears had made tracks down her face and she was sniffling dejectedly.

Jen gazed at Sam, her eyes overflowing once more at the sight of his compassionate eyes. Unable to hold back the words, Jen stuttered, "I don't want to die, Sam."

Sam knelt down beside the girl, wrapping an arm around her shoulders he pulled her towards him. He could feel the girl's tension slipping away, careful of both his words and tone Sam said, "We're not going to let you die, Jen. We'll keep you safe, I promised, remember."

Jen stiffened as Sam wrapped his arm around her; she waited for some patented response from the younger brother. Instead his warmth and sincere eyes, begged her to believe his trite words. Feeling a measure of relief, she allowed her body to relax against him. Her mind though was a different matter. "I don't understand, what the hell is that thing? Dean said it was a demon. Who the hell are you guys?"

Sam couldn't help the small sigh that escaped him as Jen's questions tumbled from her mouth. He'd know this conversation was going to happen and he'd been dreading it. "My brother and I travel from town to town helping people."

Jen frowned over the lack of actual information, "Could you be anymore vague, Sam? Whatever it is you do, remember I've seen the spider. Hell, it almost made a slurpie out of my insides; my believability meter just went way up."

Sam smiled, unable to help liking the outspoken young girl. "Alright then, we travel from town to town, keeping people safe from supernatural threats."

"Supernatural threats, you mean like a giant spider that can become a woman?" Jen asked her voice wavering a bit.

"Yeah, well like that but also other things," Sam said hesitating to shatter every last misconception the girl had.

Jen frowned, "Like Demons? Like Buffy the Vampire Slayer only on the road?"

Sam snorted, "Nah, most of that crap was made up. We're the real deal, ghosts, poltergeists, vampires, werewolves, banshees..." Sam's voice trailed off as he noted Jen's wide-eyed stare.

"Holy shit," she whispered.

Sam shrugged a bit, "Sorry, we didn't intend on telling you but then with the crazy spider lady we figured you might get curious."

Jen snorted, her laughter causing Sam to stare in concern, "No, I'm fine really I am, well I mean I'm about as fine as I can be with everything you just told me. You just sounded so much like my brother then I coulnd't help but laugh. When I went on my first date, he pulled my aside and gave me the old birds and the bees lecture. He ended his speech by saying, we didn't intend on telling you but then you started getting curious."

Sam released Jen, and helped her to her feet, "Please, that's nothing. My lecture consisted of pictures of every conceivable STD and they're effects on people. I walked around for months, avoiding touching anyone, so sure was I that I was going to catch something."

"Yeah, well it worked didn't it, you should thank me, I got my lecture from Dad, never knew the man could blush." Dean leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed.

Sam eyed his brother, there was a sheen of sweat on his forehead, and although he tried to make it seem as if he was crossing his arms, Sam could see that he was in fact cradling his bad arm. Pushing Jen out of the room, he brushed past Dean.

Dean followed Sam, his shoulder aching and burning from his wounds. Dropping down on the sofa, he leaned his head back for a moment, hunger, and weariness flooding through him. Content to drift for the moment, Dean came close to dropping off to sleep.

Sam glanced towards Dean, his eyebrows raised in surprise when, Dean seemed to drift off to sleep. Gesturing towards Jen, to stay quiet, he made the rounds of the house, ensuring that every last door and window was locked. Dean had managed to barricade all but the hall door, the windows were all covered, and the spider babies had all disappeared. Ignoring the itch to move aside a curtain and look out, Sam instead focused on using the last of their meager supplies to make dinner.

Jen added wood to the fire and then carefully settled down on the couch next to Dean. Careful not to jostle the hunter, she couldn't resist the urge to stare at him. The lethal combination of long sooty eyelashes, large hazel eyes, and full lips easily made him one of the most beautiful people she had ever seen.

Sighing slightly her eyes turned toward Sam, who was moving about the kitchen with a quiet grace. Long and lanky could be sexy too she thought, leaning her head back against the couch as she watched the younger man. His thick shaggy hair and soulful eyes were enough to melt any girl's heart, and then there were his hands, large and strong they made Jen sigh.

Yup, spider demons, ghosts, vampires, even werewolves were worth facing for the daydreams she'd be enjoying for the next twenty years. As she drifted off to sleep, a small smile on her face, she dreamed of two young men, a beach, and little else.

888

Sam left no cupboard unsearched as he set about assembling his provisions. Finally, the countertop was covered with a varied assortment of food. First and foremost, was a box of minute rice, second was a couple cans of chicken broth. Using those two ingredients, he set about making a poor man's version of chicken soup. Adding a small can of corn and one of greenbeans, Sam smiled in satisfaction.

Not gourmet by any stretch of the imagination, but filling and plenty. Next came three small cans of peaches and some questionable chocolate bars. Setting the peaches aside for breakfast Sam began opening the chocolate bars and dumping them into a pot. Smiling in anticipation, he began melting the chocolate over the wood stove.

Dean awoke to the smell of heaven and a near blinding pain in his shoulder. Glancing about he noticed Sam puttering around the small kitchen, while stirring a pot. Breathing deeply Dean pushed himself to his feet. "Is that chocolate?" Dean made a move for the pot in Sam's hands, but his brother ducked out of the way.

"Patience, Dean" Sam indicated the soup on the stove. "Dinner first, then desert."

Dean leaned over the pot and inhaled, impressed with the hodgepodge soup that Sam had managed to make. "Sounds great, I'm starving." Dean began gathering up bowls and spoons.

Sam set aside the pot and grabbed the bowels out of Dean's grasp. "No you don't; I'm going to get that shoulder fixed up first." Sam hadn't failed to notice the grimace on his brother's face when he'd awoken or the way, he'd favored it when grabbing down bowels from the cabinet.

Dean thought about arguing, but the look on Sam's face convinced him it wasn't worth the effort. Besides, his shoulder was in bad shape, and tomorrow's ride on a snowmobile wasn't liable to help. Heading over to the kitchen table he sat, elbows resting on the edge of the table, while Sam gathered their supplies.

Finally, Sam was by his side, ready to begin. Dean eased off his flannel shirt, and then gathering himself he carefully began pulling his tee shirt off. Unable to help the groan of pain that escaped him, he allowed Sam to help draw it off.

Sam's breathe hissed out at the sight of Dean's shoulder. "Aw, crap, Dean." Sam sighed as he took in his brother's shoulder. Earlier Sam had melted snow to boiling on the stove, content that it was now as sterile as it was going to get, he began washing away the blood that trailed down Dean's back. As the wounds began to emerge from the blood, he noted the way they were both inflamed and looked to be weeping something other than blood.

Dean's heavily muscled shoulder, and quick reflexes had kept the fangs from sinking too deep. As Sam cleaned away the yellowish liquid, he found himself wondering about the size of the thing that had bitten his brother. "Dean this things, got to be huge. The holes it left in your shoulder are the same diameter as a silver dollar."

Dean winced as Sam used a large bore syringe to irrigate the hole. Sam was methodical in that he first washed them out with water, and then followed with peroxide, and finally saline. Dean remained stoic through the whole thing, his face never betraying the pain he was in.

"Are you done yet, Sammy, I'd like eat sometime today."

Sam grimly continued on, stopping the irrigation only once the wound ran clean. "You're the one walking around with spider venom in your shoulder dude; I'm just trying to clean it out."

Dean had to admit once the pain from the saline lessened, his shoulder did feel better. Rolling the shoulder, he stretched ensuring that he had a full range of motion. Yeah, it was still twinging to say the least, but at least he could move it.

Jen awoke to Dean's shout, opening her eyes she glanced towards the kitchen. Sam sat with his back to Jen, blocking her view; she stood up and headed into the room. A quick glance past Sam showed her Dean, his upper body bare.

Appreciating the view, Jen promptly sat down on the other side of Dean and propped her chin in her hand. Staring dreamily at the older man, she couldn't help but notice the web of scars that were spread over his torso. Some were shiny and new and others were rigid and fairly faded. Frowning a bit, Jen asked, "So I guess getting pierced by spider fangs is really nothing new to you guys."

Dean turned towards Jen, a crease in his brow. "What can we say not everything goes quiet into the night." At the sight of Jen rolling her eyes, Dean relented. "What do you expect it's a rough job, we get hurt sometimes. We heal and we're onto the next job."

"What 'jobs' have you done, I mean Sam mentioned werewolves, have you ever seen one." Jen asked her expression one of mingled interest and horror.

Dean and Sam exchanged glances, nodding slightly Dean returned to studying the tabletop while Sam answered.

"We've faced all kinds of things Jen, the only thing that matters is what's in the woods tonight." Sam said not willing to share the details of their lives.

He had known what Dean's glance meant; his brother didn't want to romanticize their job to the young impressionable girl. If it were left up to Dean, they would simply move in and out of the shadows of society, their jobs, hell their very existence would be kept in the dark. Dean seemed to feel that everyone else deserved to live a 'normal' life.

Jen read the tension in the two young men, sighing she stood and began filling three bowls of soup, placing one in front of each of them she sat and began eating. "So how do we kill the creepy crawlies?"

Dean raised his arm a bit allowing Sam to pass a bandage under his armpit. Wincing a as Sam pulled the bandage tight, he pulled on his shirt once it was secured.

"Thanks Sammy." Dean said as he dug into the bowl in front of him. "Well, the good news is we can stab 'em, shoot 'em, or burn 'em. The bad news is we don't know how many their are and they're wicked fast."

Sam gathered up supplies, pulling out a bottle of Aspirin, he dropped two in front of Dean. Nodding at Dean's thanks, he said "So, we gonna load up and head out of here in a blaze of glory."

Dean grinned up at Sammy, his face almost boyish with glee. "That's the plan cowboy."


	10. Chapter 10

Later that evening, found Dean and Sam once again sitting at the kitchen table. Dean's weapons were spread before them and they were both intent on ensuring that everything was ready for the morning. As they worked, they discussed the best possible way back to the highway.

"The sleds are going to bog down in all this snow, without a path. There's no getting around it, then once we reach the highway we'll be good to go, we can simply follow the road to the next nearest town," Dean said as he inspected the sawed-off shotgun thoroughly.

"I know but there's not much in the way of choices, the sleds are the only thing quick enough to get us out of here. If one of us blazes the trail it will be easier for the other to make it through the snow."

"Yeah, I'll go first, I've got more experience, and with my shoulder, Jen will be better off with you. We've got plenty of ammo and hopefully they'll be sluggish in the daytime." Dean began splitting up the weapons they had, half in a bag for him and half in one for Sam. He worried about their chances of getting back to the highway alive, pushing away his depressing thoughts he continued to run through his plan.

Sam sat by his brother's side, watching as Dean began preparing for the next day. Sam only wished there was some way he could convince Dean that he had faith in his older brother. After all, Dean had never failed him yet, and it was inconceivable to Sam that he ever would. Standing in agitation, his gaze skimming around the room, his eyes lit upon the fridge, grinning he moved towards it pulling open the freezer door. Ignoring the snow that dripped down from the freezer Sam pulled out a now cool pot. Grabbing two spoons from a drawer, he dropped the pan in front of Dean.

Dean barely even noticed Sam's sudden motion; it wasn't until his brother dropped the pot in front of him that Dean even glanced up from packing. Raising a brow, in question he asked, "What's up?"

Sam just grinned and handed him a spoon. Taking his own spoon, he dipped it into the pot that sat on the table.

Dean's grin just about split his face as he watched Sam pull out a spoonful of thick fudge. Dropping down in the seat next to his brother, Dean dipped his spoon into the pot and scooped up a spoonful of rich, chocolaty, fudge. Taking a bite, Dean groaned in pleasure.

"Do you remember you used to make this for us all the time?" Sam said continuing to enjoy the sweet treat.

Dean nodded, his senses flooded by memories and the rich chocolate taste. "This and pancakes were my specialty. Every time Dad went on a hunt, I'd make a batch."

Sam smiled as he leaned back in his chair. "I remember you skipping lunch at school so you'd have the money for the chocolate. You always hated asking dad for any extra money."

Dean looked at him in surprise, "You knew about that?"

"Come on, Dean, you were ten and you always had pocket money for me. Video games, candy, books, anything I asked for you managed to get for me," Sam said his voice soft as he remembered just how much Dean had sacrificed for Sam.

Dean shrugged. "It was no big deal, Sam. Lots of kids grow up with nothing more than the clothes on their backs. At least we always had three squares and a place to sleep."

"Yeah, but thanks to you, I always had a lot more than that."

Dean glanced at his brother, nodding a bit he said, "You deserved it." Dipping his spoon in the chocolate, once more Dean continued to enjoy his late night snack.

Sam watched as his brother once again loaded his spoon. His earlier feeling of warmth disappeared as he thought about his brother's words, Dean had talked about what Sam had deserved but typically, he had left himself out. Sam would have pursued the topic, but unfortunately, he could read the signs that showed him Dean had once again shut down. Deciding not to ruin Dean's enjoyment, Sam teased, "Ugh, man you just totally double dipped."

Dean's grin lit the room, as he again dipped his spoon into the pot. Pulling it out and licking it dramatically, he said, "You got a problem don't eat it." Dean made a motion as if to pull the pot towards him.

Sam's long arm snaked out and nabbed the pot away from his brother, grinning he said, "No way, dude." Slapping lightly at his brother's arm, Sam met Dean's smile.

888

Jen awoke to the early morning dawn; snuggling down in the blankets, she wondered what had awoken her. A moment later, she heard a whisper across the room. Glancing around she noted Dean fully dressed, standing by the windows, frowning at something outside the house.

Sam stood at the kitchen window; he had been the one whispering her name. Gesturing to her to get dressed, Sam then returned his gaze towards the window. Jen felt a chill sneak up her spine, jumping to her feet; she quickly got dressed and gathered her meager belongings. Packing her black bag, she dropped it near the boy's duffels and stood unsure of what was going on.

Dean held out his hand to her, Jen moved to take it, appreciating the way his strong arm, drew her to his side, wrapping her in his warmth. As he leaned away from the opening in the window, he nodded to her to take a look.

The only thing that kept Jen's scream from ringing out through the still morning air, was Dean's hand now wrapped around her mouth. Pulling the young girl's head to his shoulder, Dean once again stared outside. Ringing the house, in a solid line were spiders. Black as coal against the blinding white snow, they stood side by side intently facing the house before them. Each one stood still, the cold snow not affecting them a bit. Their chattering and squealing sent shivers down her spine as she watched.

They had begun to swarm about an hour ago and Dean was concerned about what would happen once they completed the circle. Actually, scratch that, Dean knew what was going to happen, that's when they would swarm the house. And, no matter how well Dean barricaded against them, they'd break in somehow. Turning from the window, he motioned to Sam. Keeping one arm, locked around Jen's shaking shoulders, Dean waited until Sam stood mere inches from him to speak.

"We'll never make it to the shed. They have us cut off, and we don't have the firepower to take out that many. Not to mention, they'd get us first." Dean had an idea, but it was a long shot at best.

Sam could see that Dean had a plan, and he knew instinctively that he wasn't going to like it. However, he couldn't seem to find a way out of their predicament, so anything was better than nothing, "What?"

"I have a plan," Dean said his voice devoid of the cocky inflection it usually held when he uttered these words.

Sam simply nodded, "I'm ready."

Jen grabbed hold of Sam's hand, gripping it tightly; she did the same to Dean. Nodding firmly she echoed Sam, "I'm ready."

Dean had to grin at the young girl's bravado, especially since he could feel the tremors that were wracking her body. "Well then here goes nothing."

888

Dean stood at the back door, and once again felt the bag at his shoulder. Taking a deep breathe, he threw open the door and began trudging his way through the snow. Dean felt a moment's panic at the sight of the spiders closing in on him, until the first gunshot rang out. As Sam began targeting the spiders, Dean focused on the shed in front of him. Suddenly something, black, entered his peripheral vision. Before the creature could bite or bind him, Dean drew back a leg and kicked it halfway across the yard. Listening to it land with a pained squeal, he continued.

Filled with a grim determination to protect his brother, Sam took aim as Dean bolted towards the shed. Firing methodically, he picked off any spiders that threatened Dean. As he emptied his gun, he took only a moment to switch it for Dean's fully loaded one. Cursing loudly Sam, noticed that one of the spiders had closed in on Dean during the switch. Before he had a chance to fire though, the spider was booted across the yard, by his brother's size elevens. Burning through another clip, he once again traded guns with Jen, who had been quickly reloading Sam's empty.

Watching as Dean reached the shed and launched himself through the door. Sam continued firing at the spiders until he saw the shed door swing close. Waiting a moment more, Sam heard a distinctive boom, as Dean fired his shotgun, presumably killing any spiders inside.

Dean launched himself through the shed door, and turned slamming the door shut behind him. Quicker than he could focus something slammed into him, knocking him off his feet and onto his back. Using one arm as a brace against the spider's furry body, Dean did his best to avoid the fangs that snapped at him. Struggling he dipped his other hand into the bag he had carried out of the house.

Finally, his hand brushed against the shotgun, leveling it up and under the spider, he fired, blasting the creature across the room. Jumping to his feet, he quickly did a once over the place looking for anything that suggested there might be more. Finding no signs, he quickly got to work.

First he began by checking the two sleds, grateful that whoever they belonged to for taking such good care of them. Checking the fuel levels he found he only needed to top one of them off. Securing his bag to the back of the first, he then started both sleds, listening intently to the sound of the engines as they roared to life. He couldn't afford to have something dumb like bad gas or loose plugs, slow them down.

Finally he nodded to himself and moved towards the large double doors, at the back of the shed, unlocking them he quickly moved back towards the door he'd come through. Re-loading his shotgun he swung the door open and stepped into the doorframe. Taking aim but not firing, Dean faced a sea of black bodies spread out before him.

Good, he thought, a snarl marring his face. That's it you little shits, he thought, you stay focused on me. Refusing to fire, he watched as the creatures began skittering towards him. Registering a barely audible click, Dean prepared himself.

Sam held both guns, standing by the front door he listened intently for the sound of engines starting. Once the sound reached his ears he motioned to Jen. "This is going to be it, you stay in the path I'm making, and you move. Try not to look around too much I don't want to risk you freezing in panic."

Jen nodded to Sam, the bags containing clothing slung over her shoulders. Although, the boys had taken the time to teach her to load a gun, she was still unable to shoot. She was ready though, gripped in one hand was Dean's bowie knife; she did not intend to leave the uncertain safety of the house without a weapon.

Sam flung open the front door, fired a shot at the nearest spider, and fled through the living room and the kitchen to where Jen waited at the back door. As Sam ran towards her, she saw a mass of black bodies flooding the room behind him. Waiting until he was a foot away from her, she flung open the back door, as Sam ran out; she followed close behind, slamming the door shut behind her.

Struggling through the snow, Jen was grateful for the occasional pull on her arm, from Sam. Without that reassurance, she would have feared that she was alone. She kept her eyes peeled to the ground, not daring to look about her. As Sam and Dean suggested it was a struggle to make her way through the snow, even with Sam's path to follow, without the added terror of the creatures that pursued them.

Sam moved through the snow, careful to fire at only the creatures that got in his way, he could hear the nearly repetitive booms of Dean's shotgun, the spray taking out handfuls of the spiders in a single shot. Keeping his eyes locked on Dean, he noted his brother's slight nod. Reaching out behind him, Sam grabbed Jen's arm and pulled her in once again behind him. He was thankful to Dean for keeping an eye on the girl, Sam was afraid to turn his attention from the path in front of him for even a moment.

Barreling through the open door, Sam watched Dean slam it shut. Moving directly to the sleds Sam quickly secured the duffle bags to the back of one of the sleds. Grabbing Jen, by the arms he swung around dropping her in a seat and plopping a helmet on her head with the order to secure it. Sitting on the same sled, he shouted to Dean over the roar of the engines.

Dean breathed a sigh of relief once Jen and Sam made it through the hoard of spiders, picking up a hunting bow that they had found in one of the closets; Dean quickly set the tip of an arrow on fire. Aiming for the kitchen window that had been left open, Dean took the shot. Not bothering to see if it hit its target he then spun and pulled the big garage doors in, leaving an opening for Sam.

As planned, Sam gunned his engine and tore out of the building, just as Dean swung the front garage door open. As a flood of spiders chased Dean through the garage, he in turn jumped on the sled and tore out of the building. As he did, he saw Jen, in position, ready to swing the door shut after him, effectively cutting off the spiders.

Jen stood in the snow the helmet heavy on her head and waited for Dean to emerge, as soon as she saw him, she reached in and pulled the heavy wooden door shut, just as she heard Sam use a couple of the spiders for target practice. Breathing hard, she jammed a broomstick through the door handles just before the doors bulged outward under the weight of the spiders. Not bothering to see if the door would hold Jen turned towards Sam and climbed up behind him on the waiting sled. Wrapping her arms around his waist, she ducked instinctively when she heard a blast shatter the early morning air.

Dean pulled up and away from the garage, turning he again aimed lit another arrow and fired toward the window. This time it was the garage window, taking the shot, he again didn't wait to see if his plan worked. If it did great, if not then hanging around here wasn't the best of ideas. Leading the way he gunned the engine of his sled and took off down the path. He had already heard the house's propane tank explode, as planned. Hoping to lead Sam and Jen away before, the garage did likewise, Dean moved out into the brightening sunshine.

Sam had to admit that this time Dean had outdone himself. They had begun by booby-trapping the house, in effect they'd made it a roach motel. Spiders would check in but they wouldn't check out. By ringing the rooms with lighter fluid and lamp oil, and then running it across the threshold of the front door, they had effectively blocked off any chance of escape.

Finally, Dean had filled the sink with every flammable liquid in the house and had then added wood, newspaper, and cardboard. Opening the window above the sink had left Dean and easy target to set the whole thing ablaze. The theory was that the lit arrow would land in the sink setting it ablaze; a line of fire would quickly circle the living room, effectively blocking the front door. The spiders that had entered would be unable to leave.

He'd basically done the same with the garage. As they sped away from the cabins, Dean prayed that the trick had worked and that they're luck would hold.


	11. Chapter 11

Jen sat on the massive sled, her arms wrapped tight around Sam's waist, her helmeted face resting against his back. Pulling away from the houses, she couldn't help but look back as a bright light seemed to erupt from behind them. Turning her head, she could make out the flames that rose from the garage they had just left. Grinning in satisfaction, she felt a thrill shoot up her spine at the thought of the spiders they had just roasted. Hope welled inside her as she once again, rested her cheek against Sam's back.

Dean stared grimly ahead, as the houses behind him quickly became fully engulfed in flames. He had become more and more worried about his plan over the last few hours, not that he'd had many choices. Still the shrill screaming that echoed through his head, made him realize just how many of the young spiders he had killed.

Young, that was the word that continued to echo in his brain. If the cat-size spiders they had seen so far were in fact, as he supposed, the young then where was the adult. Something had to have spawned them, something was surely gathering food for them, Sam and Jen wrapped in cocoons had bared witness to that. Not to mention the two other bodies that had already been eaten. Dean's eyes continued to scan his surroundings, so that left the Momma, the demon woman that they had been watching for the last few days. And, if she'd been willing to eat them before, only imagine just how hungry she would be to catch them now that they'd toasted most of her young.

Most, that was the second word that continued to echo in his brain. He knew there would be survivors, no matter how many he had killed, there had simply been too many. So that meant that a large population of spider demons would continue to haunt this part of the forest, roaming only god knows how far in search of food. And, like some kind of evil bunnies, Dean had a feeling these things multiplied in numbers. Overall, Dean pretty much figured they were screwed.

Sam leaned low over the handlebars of the sled. His helmet, protected him from the worst of the cold, but he found that his hands were another matter. The gloves that he wore hadn't been intended to hold up under the excruciating cold. He only hoped that he was acting as a buffer for Jen and that the young girl was faring better. He could feel her pressed up against his back; her arms wrapped securely around his waist.

Following Dean, making sure not to ride up his back end, Sam noted that their speed seemed to slow. Not sure of what the problem was, but sure, it wouldn't be fun, Sam waited for a signal from Dean to climb off.

Dean could feel the sled beneath him becoming bogged down, the fresh powder underneath the skis, giving way to the heavy machine, causing it to sink into the snow. Cursing, he gestured to Sam for help. Together the young men beat down the snow in front of the sled, repeatedly trying to pack it a bit, then with a mighty heave they both lifted the front end of Dean's sled up, and resettled it on the somewhat packed snow. Glancing into his brother's eyes, Dean knew that Sam realized just how screwed they were. As Sam offered him a small smile of commiseration, Dean couldn't help the rise of determination that ran through him. Smiling grimly back, Dean vowed to get Sam and Jen out of the woods, if it was the last thing he did.

Jen watched as the young men struggled to free the sled, jumping down she struggled to reach their side, determined to be of help. "I think I know a quicker way back to town," Jen said her voice sounding brittle in the cold. As Dean's intense gaze met her's she saw no trace of the teasing young man she had spent the last couple of days with. Instead, she met the determined eyes of a man that would sacrifice himself for her, a stranger.

Jen firmed her jaw, her unease at what she was about to say disappearing. Better or worse the trail she suggested was better maintained and would cut time off the overall trip. "I know of another trail that branches off this one. It's a rough ride, but it's better maintained, the sleds might have a better chance of making it. Also, it's a bit closer to town."

Dean and Sam exchanged glances, no words were needed for them to agree, at the speed with which they were forced to travel they had little to no chance of making it to town before nightfall. The Impala was still no more than a giant icicle, most likely buried under a mound of snow and even a hike back to the highway was unlikely to get them anywhere. Jen had explained that the road was often shut down, during deeps snows due to avalanches. "Show us the way."

Gesturing to Sam to move out, Dean once again set off across the blinding white snow. Head dipped below the windshield to help block the wind. Minutes later, he off the sled once again, packing down the snow under the skis.

As Sam jumped off his machine he wondered just how slow they could go, before the threat of nightfall and the Kumo became realities.

888

Jen had led the men to the new path, with little difficulty. And, after the four stops they'd been forced to make on the original one, it was indeed an improvement. So far they'd been traveling about hour and had only gotten bogged down once. Glancing up at the sky, Jen imagined it to be sometime around noon. The day seemed to be slipping by faster and faster. Jen had been raised in the mountains and knew the consequences of being outdoors at night. She closed her eyes once more, resting her cheek on Sam's broad back, her lips moving in a silent litany.

She wasn't praying to God, or any other heavenly body, no, her prayers were for her brother Joe. By now, her parents would have informed him that she was missing; the first thing he would have done would be to catch a ride with one of his buddy's that plowed for the county. If he had been able to find her car, he would know that she had gone to ground. The only places nearby would be the cabins, the smoke from the fires would be enough to draw him. He had spent every weekend and snow day of his life trawling the forests with friends, family, and her. He would be out there, and he would be looking for her. Telling herself this again and again, Jen drifted along, not quite asleep but not fully awake.

888

Joe Adams stood by his sled, topping off the gas tank. Turning from the machine, he was confronted by his parents. Worry had placed a strained look on both of their normally jovial faces. Reaching out he gripped his mother's shoulders, looking her in the eye he said, "I'll bring her back." Glancing at his dad, he smiled a bit and said, "I will." His voice firm and confident.

Joe climbed on his snowmobile and with a signal to his best friend and cousin Steve, who followed on the sled behind. Leading the way out of town, he was content to follow the road for a bit. Traffic in and out of town had been halted for the last two days. Unless you were a plough truck or worked in the medical field the only way out was by snowmobile. The path they followed confirmed this fact, packed down by countless sleds it was would be nearly impossible for anything other than backhoes to break it up, when the time came for it to be cleared.

Lifting a hand to a neighbor that passed going the opposite way, Joe allowed his mind to focus on his sister. He found that after the first twenty-four hours she had been missing his anger with the stupid stunt she had pulled was far outweighed by the fear, that something truly awful had happened to her. His mom had called in a near panic the night Jen failed to make her curfew.

Unable to reach her on the phone, Joe had immediately set about trying to find a ride out of town, to look for her. Unfortunately, the state police shut down the road due to threat of avalanches, unable to sway them, he had taken up residence at the local township building waiting for the chance to head up the mountain and look for his sister. It had been a full twenty-four hours later, before he had been allowed to snag a ride with a snowplow driver to look for her. It had been close to twelve hours after, that he'd finally spotted her car, and that had been a near miracle in and of itself.

He had been in the cab of yet another, in a string of many, truck his eyes peeled for any sign of the car. Not able to find the tiny car, he had begged the driver to take a pass at a couple of the pull over's that graced the road. The guy had finally complied, though he'd made it clear that he wasn't going to be held responsible for damaging any vehicles that might be pulled along the road.

Joe had been near devastated when the search still showed no sign of the car. He had been sitting in the stopped truck, while the driver rid himself of his earlier cup of coffee, when he noticed a bit of chrome, poking out of the snow. Jumping out of the truck, he had been unable to stop the surge of hope that ran through him as he worked to expose more of the buried car. Though it wasn't Jen's he still worked his way around it, trying to judge the shape and model. Finally exposing a bit of the driver's side window he peeked inside. It had been the sight of Jen's phone lying on the back seat that had him frantically poking holes in the snow looking for her car. Once he had located and found it empty, he had caught a ride back to town.

He knew Jen, knew every thought that ran through her head. He knew that she would opt for finding shelter rather than sit in the car and freeze. That left the cabins, if she had begun walking before the snow had gotten bad, then she would have stood a chance of making it there.

Joe's attention was brought back to the present at the sight of his turn coming up, pausing for a moment he waited until Steven was abreast of him. Pulling off his helmet, he exposed a shock of black hair and deep brown eyes. Smiling grimly at Steve, he pointed toward the path, "You don't have to do this you know."

Steve's laugh was rich and deep, his sandy blond hair and twinkling blue eyes made him look more the part of a surfer than a snow hound, but that's just what he was. "No, chance you're leaving me behind, Man. You ought to know that by know, where you go I go, besides, I gotta be there when you find Jenny to remind you that she's to old for a spanking."

Joe, shot him a grin back, "Let's go then, daylights wasting."

888

Sam slid off the sled, trying his best to keep Jen from falling forward. He become concerned for her when he'd found her hands loosening on his waist, catching Dean's attention he'd stopped. Slipping off her helmet and tapping her cheek, he called to her conscience of Dean, not two steps from them, his eyes taking in every bit of the forest. "Jen, come on wake up."

Jen struggled toward consciousness at the sound of Sam's voice, barely able to force her eyes open, she instead settled for "'m tired, let me sleep."

Sam's voice was full of pity for the young girl as he argued with her. "No, Jen, you can't sleep. I need you to wake up."

Jen shook her head weakly, unable to do more.

Dean, whose patience had been strung tighter than a bow in the last few days, moved forward in a blur of motion. Grasping the young girls chin, he forced her head up, lowering his face to her's he growled, "If you're planning on lying down and dying, then be my guest but I won't allow your selfishness to take Sam out with you. Now get yourself up or so help me I'll leave you here."

Sam winced at Dean's rough, though necessary words, Jen would die if she slept, without the will to go on the young girl wouldn't make it through the night that was quickly approaching.

Jen heard the words and for a moment she thought, who cares better dead now, slipping into a sleep only to never awaken, than to prolong the inevitable. That's when she looked into Dean's gaze, although the color was different, the challenging stare was the same one she'd spent her life looking at. Lifting her head, she began struggling to get up, her voice rasped out of her sore throat, "I'm not going to die."

Dean felt his breath whoosh out at the sign of life that began flooding Jen's eyes. Bending down he gripped her arms firmly. "I'm going to deliver you to him, safe and sound I promise, but I'm going to need you to help. Sam and I need you to fight, Jen. For us and for yourself you have to fight.

Dean nodded in satisfaction as the young girl nodded solemnly. Turning toward Sam, he said, "I'm going to have her ride with me for a bit."

Sam nodded and climbed back onto his own sled, watching as Dean positioned Jen in front of him, his long arms reaching around her to grip the handles, it would be more uncomfortable for Dean, but this way Jen stood less chance of falling off if she did fall asleep again. Following his brother down the path, Sam glanced once more at the quickly fading sunlight.


	12. Chapter 12

Dean felt chilled to the bone, he had been cold before, but never this mind numbing, breath stealing cold. Tightening his arms around the girl that leaned against his chest, he once again, glanced back toward Sam, grateful that his brother's headlight shone bright in dark night. Twice now, Dean had found himself nodding off, and ever since he had been riding with the visor of his helmet up, the cold air helped at first to keep him awake but now it was simply numbing him.

The trees that lined the path, kept it well defined, enabling the men to follow it easily. As they road through the forest in an unending line, the path continued it's steady descent down the mountain side. The full moon illuminated the clearing, leaving the surround forest cloaked in shadows. Quiet and still the forest around them seemed devoid of all life. Granted the machines they rode were loud enough to rouse the dead, but even so, earlier today they had passed all manor of living creatures. Everything from scrawny deer looking for a bit of leaf or dead grass, to a small rabbit that had simply sat back on it's haunches watching them pass. Then night had fallen, after the darkness became all but complete they had seen no more signs of life.

Dean shifted in his seat his tired eyes, scanning the woods on either side of him. For the last hour, he'd become more and more convinced that their passage through the woods was being marked by something. Unable to tell where the threat was coming from, he had picked up speed hoping instead to outrun it. The greater speed had instead caused his sled to bog down. Wasting precious minutes in the cold, trying to free the snowmobile had convinced Dean that a steady pace at about 15 miles an hour would have to do.

Dean glanced over his shoulder and felt his heart leap into his throat at the sight of Sam's sled overturned behind him. Turning sharply, his sled kicking up a spray of snow, Dean had to make a grab for Jen as she began to slide off. He could tell by her boneless posture that she had either passed out or fallen asleep. Staring into the dark, he tried to pinpoint where Sam had gone. It was only when he nearly ran over him in the dark that he realized Sam hadn't crashed, he'd just managed to tip his sled.

Dean's first instinct was to leap off and go to his brother; unfortunately, he still had to contend with Jen. Tapping her cheek repeatedly, he finally got her to open her eyes. Explaining that he needed to check on Sam, he felt relief spread through him at Jen's whispered, "OK". Propping her up so she didn't slip off, Dean then turned his attention to Sam. His brother was lying trapped, his leg caught underneath the sled. He had removed his helmet, and sat wearily waiting for Dean.

Sam slipped his helmet off, wincing as the movement jarred his knee; his leg was trapped at an awkward angle beneath the sled. Although he didn't think he'd done anything other than wrench his knee, he couldn't be sure until Dean helped him right the sled. As Dean approached, Sam couldn't help but glance around for the reason he'd dumped the sled in the first place. Driving along on auto-pilot, barely aware of his surroundings, conscious only of the drone of Dean's sled and the dim light shining from his brother's headlights, he had been startled out of his semi-comatose state when something darted between the trees. Focusing hard, he had tried to find the dark shape again, and had lost control of the sled.

"What the hell, Sammy, you could have killed yourself. What were you thinking?" Dean groused as he forced his cold and stiff body to move towards his brother.

Sam eyes peeled on the forest that surrounded them quipped, "I figure I'm so cold hell would be an improvement."

Dean grinned slightly and reached towards the sled; bracing his feet in the ever-shifting snow, he readied himself to push the sled erect once more. "Please, as if they'd take you. There's only room for one more Winchester in hell and I've got already got reservations."

Sam groaned, as Dean hefted the sled up, quickly pulling his leg free, Sam then added his muscle until the sled was once again upright. Feeling his knee gingerly, Sam ignored his brother's poor attempt at humor. "I saw something, there's something chasing us."

Dean whipped around his eyes fixed on the pitch black forest, his feeling of unease intensified. "Get your sled started, Sam, we've got to keep moving." Dean began to move towards his own sled, skirting Sam's. As he moved across open ground, something knocked his feet out from under him, knocking him to the ground.

Sam had just straddled the sled, when he saw Dean fall to the ground. Pulling his gun, he fired three shots into the woods directly behind Dean's now prone body. Snarling in satisfaction at the sound of a high-pitched squeal, Sam slid to the ground favoring his knee. "Dean, you alright?" he called out as he moved towards him. Sam came within a foot of Dean's prone body when he heard a rumble. Glancing up, he scanned the area, hope flooding through him.

Dean groaned, the cold snow driving out what little warmth remained. Rolling over he glanced down at his legs, from the knees down, they were tied together with white strands of silk. Using his bowie knife Dean struggled to cut the bonds, his glance never straying far from the surrounding woods. Finally, he struggled to his feet, ignoring his protesting body. "Sam, we've got to haul ass, they won't hang back long."

Sam nodded to Dean and headed for his sled, before he could climb on though he stopped. Listening intently, he realized that the sound he had been hearing was the roar of engines approaching. Focusing his eyes on the forest he called out, 'You hearing that, Dean?"

Dean nodded his eyes glued to the woods behind him, "Yeah I hear it, Sammy. Keep an eye out, I get the feeling the little buggers aren't going to wait much longer."

Sam nodded turning his back to Dean he focused on his side of the woods, as the sound of the snowmobiles increased his unease intensified.

Jen dwelled in a cold so deep she felt as if she would never escape it. Unable to fight any longer she barely noticed when the motion of the sled stopped, or Dean had left her side. It was only as the gunshots ripped through the forest, that she found the will and strength to open her eyes. Trying to focus, she glanced about, spying Dean's still figure on the ground, and Sam poised near him gun in hand. Her heart in her throat, it had taken long moments for Jen to realize that Dean was all right, and it was truly only as he began to stand that her panic began to recede.

The noise of the sleds had simply been noiseless background sounds until Sam had pointed them out. As soon as he did, Jen recognized the noise for what it was, the sound of snowmobile engines coming at a fast clip. He heart began to race, at the sound, finally, she thought to herself, rescue. She had known he would come from the first minute, she had realized that she needed help; she had known he would find her. Unable to contain her happiness she let out a burst of sound, a whoop that would have rivaled any Indian war cry.

Dean couldn't help but grimace at Jen's cry. To him the snowmobiles didn't indicate help, they simply added to the number of people he would now have to keep safe. The creatures that they faced wouldn't hold back simply because of an increase in numbers. No, they would still attack and Dean was betting that the so-called rescuers would be nothing more than a liability. Waiting grimly for the sleds to find them, Dean only hoped that they would be willing to take direction from him, if not none of them were likely to make it off the mountain alive.

As Joe took the bend in the path at top speed, he slowed in an instant at the sight of two sleds parked in front of him. It took only moments for him to recognize the slumped figure on the first sled. Fighting down a burst of elation, he quickly stripped off his helmet and slid off the sled. Not even bothering to acknowledge the two men that stood near his sister, Joe headed straight for her.

Jen made a move to slip off her sled and head toward her brother, as she did, strong hands wrapped around her middle. Glancing over her shoulder, she saw Sam, his attention still on the surrounding woods, his strong hands wrapped around her waist.

"Don't get up, Jen, we're going to need to make a break for it." Sam let go, once he saw her nod in agreement.

Joe practically growled when he saw the taller of the two men prevent Jen from coming to his side, "Why don't you keep your hands to yourself, bucko." As Joe approached, he noticed the weapons held by both men, a quick glance at the two assured him that the shorter one posed the highest threat. Moving between him and his sister, he folded his arms and glared. "Who the hell do you think you are, that's my sister you've got."

Dean raised a brow, "Bucko? Okay." Dean drawled the words, allowing the sneer on his face to be mimicked by his words. "Listen dude, we've done nothing but help your sister. Ask her we're the good guys."

Sam watched as Joe, took a step closer to Dean trying to intimidate his brother with his larger side. Knowing that Dean's temper was already tight, Sam joked, "Why do they always assume you're the one to watch Dean, huh? Why is that?" Dean swung to face Sam and even in the dark Sam could see the flash of a white smile.

"It's that baby face, Sam. You're just too sweet looking."

Sam snorted and rolled his eyes, "Yeah, it's actually the fact that you look like a criminal that does it I'm thinking."

Steve approached the men warily; hanging back, he took a moment to get a grip on what was going on. Joe as usual had barreled forward without a thought. Though he loved his cousin, he above all knew all his faults. His cousin was bullheaded and too quick to react. Steve on the other hand never rushed, he liked to scope out a situation before making a decision. It took only a few minutes observation to note the relaxed way Jen sat, her small smile just visible in the dim light of the headlights, as the two men bantered back and forth. Steve nodded to himself, so Jen wasn't being threatened in any way, good. Easing up on the men, Steve noted the firearms in their hands, he also noted the intense way they were studying the surrounding area.

Coming abreast of Joe, Steve asked, "So, Jenny, what're we looking for, bear?"

Jen sighed in relief as she watched her cousin remove his helmet. Knowing he would do his best to help control Joe's uncertain temper, Jen blurted out, "No, it's a giant..." Jen paused in confusion as Dean's voice overrode her own.

"Giant Bear, that's right. So we'd better get moving." Dean nodded to Sam to mount up. Starting out toward his own sled he was suddenly confronted by Jen's big brother.

"We're not going anywhere till you start talking tough guy. I wanna know who the hell you are, why Jen's being drug through the countryside, and what's going on?"

Dean couldn't help himself, he glanced toward Sam and said, "Is this guy for real, first bucko, now tough guy?" Turning his attention to the man in front of him, Dean smiled "My name doesn't concern you, your sister chose to live, and we're freezing to death. That answer your questions, now shut up and mount up."

Joe couldn't believe the smart mouth on the man in front of him. Determined to teach the guy some manners he drew back a fist. He never had a chance to throw the intended punch though, because just then all hell broke loose.

Dean saw the punch coming but before he could duck, he saw the younger man fall to the ground. Not waiting to see what had caused it he yelled to the blonde man to mount up, and signaled Sam to move out with Jen. Reaching down, Dean grabbed the arm of the man on the ground and drug him towards his own sled, firing his gun towards the woods. Once they had reached Dean's sled, he bent down and with two quick flicks of the wrist cut through the silk that was binding Joe's legs.

In one smooth motion, he grabbed Joe's hand pulled him up and settled himself and Joe on the sled. Gunning the engine, Dean headed for the blond man's taillights. Sighing in relief as they left the clearing behind, Dean ignored the yelling that was coming from his reluctant passenger.

Joe wasn't sure what had happened, but he did know he was being forced to abandon his sled. Yelling at the man in front of him he quickly decided to forget about jumping off as their speed continued to climb. Instead, he settled for trying to make sense of what had just happened.

Dean continued to follow the sled in front of him for about two miles before flashing his lights in signal to slow. Red flared in the dark night, as the brake lights from the two leading sleds flashed in response. Flashing the lights again, Dean pulled up behind the blond as the leading sleds stopped completely. Climbing off, he ignored the continued questions of his passenger, moving to stand shoulder to shoulder with Sam, he waited impatiently as Jen hugged, first her brother and then the other man.

Jen wrapped her arms around Joe, warmth flooding through her as he enveloped her in a bear hug. "Am I glad to see you," she heard him whisper. Jen pulled back a bit and grinned tiredly "I'm glad to see you too." Releasing her brother, she moved on to Steve, who was leaning causally against on of the sleds, a big grin on his face. Hugging him close, she whispered in his ear, "Help me calm him down, these guys really did save my life." Jen stepped back, Steve's arm resting casually on her shoulder and waited for the barrage she knew was coming.

Joe felt his body sag in relief at the sight of his obviously unhurt sister. A moment later anger spread through him as he thought of all that could have gone wrong. Holding up one hand he took a step closer to her, lifting a finger he counted off, "First, you lied about where you were going. Second, you left town when you knew you weren't allowed. Third, you head off with two strangers, who might I add, look like serial killers. And fourth, you're traipsing about the mountainside instead of holing up at the cabins like you should have." Crossing his arms, he waited for a response.

Jen knew the best defense was a good offense when dealing with her brother and his temper. Standing toe to toe with him she put her hips on her hands and asked, "Where've you been? I've been missing for over two days now and you're just now coming to the rescue."

Sam exchanged a smile with Dean and Jen's cousin impressed with how the tiny girl managed to put Joe back on his heels. Sam's grin grew broader as Joe backtracked trying to explain the difficulties he'd encountered while trying to find his sister. Sam's gaze moved towards Dean once again as he noted his brothers, rigid stance.

Dean knew within moments of stopping that they were once again, being surrounded. "Joe are there any caves nearby, we need to find shelter for the night. We'll never be able to stay ahead of them."

Joe turned toward the older man, "Listen, I don't know what the hell happened earlier but I do know that the most dangerous thing we have to deal with right now is freezing to death. The bears are still in hibernation and there's no mountain cats left in the area."

Dean looked at Jen, his eyes pleading with her to do as he asked.

Jen struggled to find a way to get Joe to act without too many questions. Finally, in desperation she put a hand to her head and sighed dramatically. "I feel faint, Joe, I can't go on."

Joe immediately put an arm around his sister, supporting her, his face contrite as he took in the exhaustion reflected on her face. "Okay, kid, we'll get you somewhere warm and safe, just hold on." Turning to Steve, he asked, "We're near Crater Ridge right."

Steve nodded, his mind already following his cousin's thoughts, "Yeah, we're, less than a mile away, the ranger station should have supplies." Steve was already moving towards his sled, his eyes darting from tree to tree.

Dean nodded, "Jen, you ride with Sam, Joe and Steve can share." Turning towards Jen's family Dean swept his arm toward the trail. "Gentlemen, we'll follow your lead."


	13. Chapter 13

Steve brought the sled to a stop at the base of the ranger station. It was as close as the sleds would get, the path leading up to the small building was uneven and littered with rock. While he waited for Joe to dismount, he continued trying to make sense of what had happened earlier. Unlike Joe, he couldn't deny that he'd seen something shoot out from the woods, get tangled around the man's legs, and trip him.

Steve shuddered a bit; he had grown up at the base of these mountains, and had spent a large portion of that time here. Hiking, snowmobiling, skiing and even four wheeling, he had scoured every inch of the mountainside, but this, this was different. Even now after leaving the clearing, he still felt as if unseen eyes watched.

Slipping off the sled, he moved to help Jen off her machine. Steve couldn't help but notice how solicitous the brown haired man was, toward his younger cousin. Nodding his thanks, Steve wrapped an arm around Jen's shoulders practically holding the young girl up. A quick once over showed him that she was all right, tired and exhausted but basically okay.

As Joe, wrapped his arm around Jen's other side; the trio began to make their way up the path. Normally it was a simple hike, but the dark and the accumulated snow made it a difficult climb. As the two men, began to all but, haul Jen up the hill, neither one bothered to turn when the third sled appeared and parked next to their machines. At least not until the driver jumped off, waving his gun, and yelling for them to move. Next thing Steve knew, Jen was gone from his arms, swept up by the tall young man, as he carried her up the hill in a fireman's hold. Steve picked up his own pace as the older man began firing shots into the surrounding forest.

Intent on sticking close to Jen, Steve never saw the creature dart forward out of the dark surrounding woods. It wasn't until he felt a weight land on his shoulders, and something pierce the skin of his back, that he realized he was being attacked. Yelling, he thrashed his arms, trying to dislodge the animal; unable to do so, he dropped to the ground, his intention to smash the bastard.

He had done no more than drop down when the creature was ripped from his back, a strong arm wrapped itself around his own, and he was pulled almost upright, all in one motion. Struggling to get his feet under himself, he blindly followed the pull on his arm, trusting the man who held it to lead him to safety.

Dean knew as soon as he arrived at the parking area that an attack was eminent. It was as if a storm was building and was just about to break loose and dump the heavens down upon them. However, this time instead of a deluge of snow, it would be the spiders. Jumping from his sled, he yelled out, thankful when Sam grabbed the girl and headed up the steep path. Running he fired continuous shots into the woods, bursts of elation filling him every time he heard a scream of pain. They were half-way to the cabin when a spider darted out of the woods and jumped Jen's cousin.

Without hesitation, Dean darted towards the young man, and kicked the spider that had managed to dig it's claws into the kids back. Not bothering to assess the damage, Dean grabbed his arm and half-dragged him up the slope. Never slowing until he was able to thrust the guy in front of him and into the cabin. Slamming the door behind him, Dean took a moment to catch both his breath and his bearings.

He could see that Sammy was already in the process of lighting a couple of propane lanterns that he had found. Jen and her brother, in the meantime, were in the process of holding their rather pale and slightly swaying cousin.

Dean stepped from the door; thankful that none of the spiders had made it inside, calling out to get Sam's attention he nodded towards Steve. "Why don't you get him cleaned up, Sam, I'll hold down the fort."

Sam nodded and grabbed the duffle he had been carrying, motioning to Jen and Joe to lay their cousin on an old kitchen table; he set about pulling out supplies. "What's the plan, Dean? We're trapped here."

Dean clenched his jaw, he knew they were trapped, but he also knew that the creatures were following the Winchesters with a single mindedness that didn't bode well for the brothers. Dean had been afraid, that if they continued on to the nearest town, the spiders, and their demon, bitch, mother would follow. These creatures had the capacity and the numbers to bring down an entire town. Glancing out the window, he was shocked as a sudden thud rocked the pain of glass. Squinting he could just barely make out a shadow, moments before it hit the window.

Dean didn't need to hear the small popping sound the window made, the sight of a small crack in the window was motivation enough. Moving away from the window, he walked to the table wincing at the sight of four puncture wounds on Steve's back. "Man that's gotta hurt." Dean pointed a finger at the two wounds situated on the man's upper right shoulder. "These are bite marks; you can already see the skin's becoming discolored. The poison's seeping into this system."

"I know I'm going to irrigate the holes as soon as I get the other two punctures cleaned out." Sam took the tip of a knife sanitized in alcohol and pressed it into the one of the open wounds, angling it gently, he began to use the knife tip to extract something. Once the piece of debris was completely removed Sam recognized the object for what it was, pointing to Dean he said, "Spider leg."

It was at that point that Steve nearly passed out. The pain he could handle, he was enough of an outdoorsman to have learned how to ignore pain, push it away, and fight through it. However, nothing could prepare him for hearing that the large somewhat furry creature that had attacked him was in fact a spider.

Turning his head, he focused a weary eye on the two men before him, "A spider leg. How's that possible?"

Joe moved closer to the table, "It can't be Steve. There's no such thing as a giant spider."

Dean took a step forward, as Joe used his fingers to make quote signs in the air at the words "giant spider". Grinding his teeth, Dean allowed Sam to hold him back. Glancing down at the table, trying to rein his control back in, his eyes took in the claw that had been pulled out of Steve's shoulder. Grinning a bit, he picked it up and flung it at Jen's brother.

Instinct caused Joe to snag the item that was thrown to him. Glancing down, he dropped it with a screech when he saw just what it was. Unable to take his eyes off it he said, to the room in general, "It's a spider leg."

Dean let out a snort and began taking an inventory of the small two-room cabin. They now stood in an all-purpose room; a couch stood against one wall and a large wooden desk another. The rest of the room consisted of a fireplace, a row of kitchen cabinets, the table on which Steve lay, and a door to another office. Dean glanced into the office and found nothing more than a gun cabinet, a file drawer and another wooden desk. Cursing, he headed towards the cabinet and quickly picked the lock, grumbling under his breath he said, "And Sammy said, bringing this stuff was a waste of time."

Turning the handle on the cabinet Dean swung the doors wide open, and whistled appreciatively. "Sam, get in here."

Sam stood, and said to Jen, "Make sure you irrigate the wounds really well, it'll hurt now, but it'll stop the poison from spreading.

Sam walked into the back room, and found Dean leaning against a big wooden desk. His brother held a rifle in each hand, and there were boxes of ammo behind him. Smiling slightly at his brother's mile wide grin, Sam said, "So you have a plan."

Dean shrugged. "Not much of one, Sammy, but it just might work. Now all we have to do is turn Joe into a believer, and see if the big boy can do anything other than pout."

Sam shot Dean a sly grin. "Don't think that's going to be a problem, tossing the leg at him seems to have done the trick."

Dean shrugged; laying the guns back on the desk, he couldn't help but laugh. "Yeah well I guess that would do it."

888

"Jen, so help me God if you say I told you so one more time I'm going to..." Joe paused for a moment, trying to think of a suitable threat for his younger sister. "I'm going to tell Mom and Dad about the time you got drunk at Chris Evans graduation party." Joe crossed his arms daring his sister to say another word.

Jen sat down at the table in a huff. 'Fine but I did tell you these guys were okay. You never trust me to make decisions..."

"Jen"

Jen shut her mouth with a snap at her brother's warning tone. They had been trapped inside the ranger station for over three hours now. The constant thumps that resounded every time a spider threw itself, at either a window or the door, were grating on her nerves. "I'm sorry I just wish." Jen stopped; her list of wishes at this point was so great that, there was really little point in saying them out loud.

Steve patted the sofa next to him, "Come here, kiddo."

Jen dropped down alongside her older cousin, wincing in sympathy as she took in his haggard appearance. "How are you holding up?"

"Not bad actually, It still burns, but it's nothing I can't handle." Steve grimaced, as he shifted a bit trying to ease the pressure on his wounded back.

Joe looked towards the doorway and for the hundredth time asked, "What are they doing in there? Those things are about to break in here, we need to come up with a plan, not make us sit around and wait."

"Just wait, Joe, these guys are good, they're going to get us out of here, you just wait and see." Jen had every faith that Sam and Dean would save them, closing her eyes, she shifted a bit trying to get comfortable.

888

Sam was once again, bent over Dean's shoulder. As he again filled a syringe with saline, he couldn't help but wince as he irrigated his brothers bite wound. Earlier, after he had caught Dean wincing in pain, he had talked his brother into letting him clean his would again. At first the wound had bled, a yellowish substance, but now the saline was coming back out clean. Sam figured a couple more treatments and there would be nothing left of the poison in the wounds. Cleaning his brother's shoulder, he quickly re-applied a bandage and left Dean to slip his shirt back on.

"So that's your plan."

"Yup"

"And you think it'll work?"

Dean shrugged a bit and grinned. "I guess we'll see huh."

Sam shook his head, unable to help himself he grinned back at his brother. "I guess we will."


	14. Chapter 14

"You want us to what?" Joe asked, in disbelief.

Dean glanced toward Jen's brother. The kid was young, strong, and obviously used to leading. Well, he was in for a big surprise if he thought that Dean would simply roll over. Leaning against the desk, he pulled out his hunting knife, and a sharpening stone. Taking his time, he concentrated on pulling the knife over the stone, again and again. Finally, he gazed at the blade, tilting it back and forth, allowing the light to play over the blade. Dropping the knife, he allowed it to thump tip first, into the wooden desk

Tucking the stone back into his jacket pocket, he glanced toward Joe; raising an eyebrow, he said, "I want you three to barricade yourselves in here. Wait for morning and then head for town."

Staring at the man in front of him, Joe had to admit he was intimidated. After all in a few succinct and rather rude words, Dean had managed to change Joe's entire world in a matter of minutes. Werewolves and witches, angry spirits and zombies, everything that only a day before he'd dismissed as the imagining of overactive imaginations had proven to be real. And the kicker was Dean and Sam lived their lives protecting people like him, like his sister from these monsters everyday. Yeah, Joe thought, that's not at all intimidating.

Squaring his shoulders, Joe shook his head. "No, I'm not going to sit here safe and sound while you two risk your lives. You said it yourself, if they get off this mountain there'll be no stopping them. That's my town at risk, my family."

Sam couldn't help but roll his eyes at the guy's gung-ho attitude; ever since Dean had tossed the leg at him, Joe had done a complete one-eighty. Sam knew that the abrupt about face, did nothing to change Dean's mind. Watching as Dean came face to face with Joe, Sam couldn't help but give props to the younger guy. Not many men could stand toe to toe with Dean and not show some sign of fear. This kid, though, this kid was meeting Dean's steady gaze with one of his own.

"I'm a hunter, I can shoot, and I know these woods like the back of my hand. I can help." Resisting the urge to swallow, Joe held Dean's gaze.

At last, Dean stepped back; leaning against the desk once more, he exchanged glances with Sam. At Sam's infinitesimal nod, Dean shrugged. "Fine you can stay but, you follow our lead. You got that. No matter what, we say jump and you do it."

Joe nodded, "You got it, I promise."

"Well if Joe's fighting so am I." Jen said, drawing herself up to stand with her brother.

Dean ignored the girl, turning his back he began scanning a relief map that hung on the wall of the cabin. Sam moved to join him; not wanting to be pulled into the family squabble. Talking softly the brothers began to finalize the plan.

Joe smiled at his sister, reaching out he drew her in for a bone-crushing hug. "No, you'll stay here with Steve. You'll stay and you won't move, and if we're not back by daylight you'll get yourself to town." Releasing her only slightly, Joe continued, "I almost lost you once, I won't risk it again, you can't shoot and you aren't as familiar with the area." Joe's tone made it clear he wasn't going to change his mind.

Jen glanced at the men who were resolutely ignoring her, knowing that she'd get no help from them she nodded. "Fine, but if I reach town and you're not back. I'm forming a search party and we're coming after you, do you understand Joe. I won't just leave you here."

Joe smiled and nodded, "Deal."

Jen turned toward her cousin, who now lay on the couch. Pressing a hand to his forehead, she felt for a fever.

Steve smiled up at his cousin's fussing. He actually felt good, considering the circumstances. He was half-tempted to argue that he was well enough to help. A quick glance at Joe, dissuaded him. His cousin shook his head at Steve's questioning glance, nodding Steve backed down. He knew that Joe was counting on him to keep Jen safe. Moaning a bit, Steve played it up a bit, confident that Jen's soft heart would keep her close to him.

Satisfied that Steve would watch out for his sister, Joe turned towards the men. "So what's next?"

888

"Dean?"

"Yeah, Sam?"

"You do realize that this is undoubtedly one of the stupidest things we've ever done right."

Dean frowned for a minute, obviously thinking hard, finally he answered, "Yeah, I'm pretty sure it is." Smiling at Sam, he was careful to keep to the shadows.

"Just checking. So, you ready?"

Grinning, Dean said, "As ever, let's get it done." Turning towards Joe, Dean asked, "So, that's the path?"

Joe clutched the shotgun in his hand, pushing his fear away he nodded, "Yeah that's it, like I said it should take us about fifteen minutes in this snow."

Dean nodded. "Fifteen minutes, okay." Turning towards Sam, he said, "You ready to run."

Sam held up the shotgun, grinning nervously he said, "As ready as I'll ever be." Licking his lips, he asked, "You wanna tell me why I'm the bait."

Dean grinned, "Well, you're always bragging that you're faster than me, this is your chance to prove it."

Sam nodded his body tense. "Next time I bring it up you have permission to slug me."

"Will do, now you ready?"

Not bothering to answer, Sam bolted from the shadow of the porch, and down the stairs; moving towards the path, that Joe had indicated. Not bothering to look left or right, he held tight to the shotgun in his hand.

Luckily, the snow turned out to be less than an impediment, than Sam had thought it would. Gathering speed he began yelling, "Come on, here I am. Come and get it."

Dean couldn't help but smile, as his brother tore across the clearing, yelling for all he was worth. Glaring at the man next to him, Dean said, "You better be right, Joe."

Joe nodded his face set. "I am."

"Well alright then, let's see if we can't get Charlotte to come out and play."

Dean watched his brother disappear down the path, the moonlight, making the night seem almost brighter than daylight. As he moved, hundreds of black shapes appeared out of the surrounding forest. They converged on the path, creating a snaking, black, trail behind Sam. Clenching his teeth, Dean kept one hand on Joe's arm, holding the young man back. His every instinct was to head out after his brother, to divert the spiders from following Sam as if he was some kind of Pied Piper.

"Now?"

Dean waited until the shadow began to taper off, finally as only stragglers remained, he let go of Joe's arm, and bolted from the shadows. Moving through the night a burst of exhilaration flooded through him. Focusing on following the horde in front of him, he looked neither right nor left, his every instinct insuring him that the danger laid in front of him.

Sam ran, eyes front, arms pumping. He had run track in high school, at least whenever he could. Running had been one of the few 'normal' things his father had encouraged. After all, it had helped to keep him in shape. Stretching his long legs to their fullest, he kept his eyes peeled for anything that was liable to trip him up. The moonlight was providing a surprising amount of light, and the path before him remained fairly clear.

Sam had been running for seven minutes, by his count, when he first heard the noise. Unable to help it, he stumbled a bit. Turning his head, he nearly fell, when he got his first glimpse of the flood of spiders spread out behind him. Skittering, they moved in a pack, as if controlled by one mind. Not knowing which was worse, the sound of their feet, or the squeals they emitted, Sam turned his face forward and ran.

Running, he hefted his shotgun; coming to a stop, he readied himself. Turning he fired both barrels. In one fell swoop, he managed to take out a large chunk of the following horde. Dropping the gun to his side, Sam was running again in moments. Not bothering to watch the aftermath, he picked up his speed, hoping to put more distance between himself and the spiders.

"Are your plans always like this?" Joe asked as he gasped for breath.

"Yup"

"Well, that's a reassuring. Maybe there's a chance we won't end up dead."

"You never know." Dean moved down the snow-covered path, arms pumping, his breath coming slow and steady. He was expecting to hear gunfire any moment now, and the wait was killing him. Running, he tried to keep his gaze from lingering on the path in front of him; it was as if a thousand feet had trampled the snow. Dean snorted to himself, well, he thought, technically they had.

"Should have fired by now." Joe breathed, as he pushed himself to keep up with the man in front of him.

Dean shook his head. "Not yet." Keeping his answers short and simple, he focused on the path in front of him. Counting down in his head, he had just passed three when he heard shots fired. Grinning he whispered to himself, "Good job Sammy."

Sam wanted to yell for joy at the keening sound that rippled through the remaining spiders. Not bothering to check how many he had killed, he picked up his pace knowing that he had really pissed them off now.

Dean surged forward at the sound of shots. He had been counting on Sam to piss off the Kumo, ensuring that the demon's attention remained focused on his brother. Closing the distance between himself, and the tail end of the spiders, he was careful to not draw thier attention to him and Joe He hated it though, he hated trusting Sam's fate to a man he hardly knew. However, if Joe were right, then Sam would be better off as bait. .

Joe was starting to gasp for breath; the pain in his side was becoming a problem. Although he was fit, running flat out for over ten minutes in the snow couldn't compare to jogging at the track. Sneaking a glance at the man that ran by his side, Joe drew strength from Dean's dogged determination. Forcing himself forward, Joe ignored the pain.

Sam hit the clearing at a dead run. Moving toward the far side, he quickly picked out the boulder that Joe had given as a landmark. Praying that the man knew the mountain as well as he claimed, Sam placed his back to the boulder. Taking three steps forward he then turned, facing the way he had come. Two steps backwards and he readied himself.

Signaling Joe into position, he never paused. Overtaking the tail end of the spiders, he concentrated on moving forward. Luckily for him, the creatures seemed to be in a blind rage. Intent on catching Sam, they ignored him. Unmindful of the spiders he crushed beneath his boots, he came to a halt. Raising his shotgun, he fired, forcing the spiders forward.

Sam heard the shots, holding his breath he waited. The spiders came at him fast, much faster than he had expected. Apparently, the sound of the shots had really lit a fire under them. Sam waited and watched, in moments the creatures surrounded him. He didn't know what troubled him more, the fact that they seemed to stop just before reaching him, or that they seemed to be parting.

Feeling a bit like Moses, Sam watched the creatures in front of him part. Within moments he could see why, walking up the divide was the Kumo. She was dressed in a silver, silk, dress; a blood red cape lay across her shoulders, the hood pulled forward. Raising her arms, she moved toward Sam, all the while lowering the hood of her cape. She was beautiful, hair as black as coal, her lips ruby red, she was the epitome of grace. She made Sam's skin crawl, watching her approach he waited to see what her next move would be.


	15. Chapter 15

Joe stood in the shadows. Careful to remain on Dean's right, he couldn't help but grimace in horror at what he was seeing. As the woman moved toward Sam, the spiders parted to form a path, allowing her to pass and then they immediately closed the gap behind her. Their large, black, hairy bodies seemed to be pulse with anticipation, while their legs tapped the ground in eagerness.

Joe couldn't help but be amazed at Sam's apparent calmness in the face of the monsters, it made him wonder what sort of life these men lived. After all, if the sight of two hundred or more spiders didn't scare them off, then the sight of a woman calmly walking in their midst should have. Earlier, he'd dismissed Jen's claims of werewolves and ghosts. He had figured the men were taking advantage of his sister's naivety. Since then he'd revised his opinion. He now figured they were either, two of the craziest men to walk the earth, or two of the bravest. He snorted softly to himself, maybe, he thought, they were both. Reaching behind his back, he wrapped his hand around the wooden shaft, strapped there. As he removed the shaft, he elbowed a nearby tree branch. At the soft rustling sound, he noticed the older man tear his gaze from Sam long enough to glare at him.

Joe nodded to say he was sorry and then carefully pointed toward his pocket, silently questioning Dean. At the shake of Dean's head, Joe sighed and returned his gaze toward Sam and the Demons.

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It took every once of will power Dean possessed to remain silent and still as the horde of spiders surrounded Sam. His instinct shouted at him to move, to go forward guns blazing to destroy not only the spiders, but also the bitch who led them. Instead, he waited, counting down the seconds in his mind, his focus locked on his younger brother as he stood amongst the spiders. Some of which had now scampered to within feet of Sam.

Dean heard a noise to his right, glancing over he saw Joe standing in position. With a glare and a shake of his head, for the rookie, he again focused his gaze on his brother. It killed him to trust a virtual stranger, but Dean knew he had no choice, They were quickly running out of time, and the demon and it's children had to be destroyed.

Finally, the demon seemed to have reached her destination. She stood before Sam, the spiders gathered at her feet. Dean watched as she lifted one ghost white arm and pointed it toward his brother. The spiders stilled, not one of them moved. Instead, they waited, waited for her command.

"You," she said.

"You have brought death to my forest." She stepped closer to Sam, forcing the hunter to step back.

"You have destroyed my children." Her next step brought her even closer. Sam, again stepped back, nearing the edge of the cliff.

"You will die."

"Now." With these words, she swung her arms forward, as a surge of bodies lunged toward Sam.

Dean met Sam's gaze an instant before he tumbled backward, over the edge of the cliff.

Dean fired into the spiders, his first blast blowing away a number of bodies. His second shot just missed the Kumo, instead hitting the spiders closest to her. As the Kumo turned to confront him, he calmly began to reload the gun. Never taking his gaze from the demon, he smiled.

"Technically, if you're going to lay blame, I'm the one that blew up your kids, bitch."

The Kumo pointed a hand toward him. "You will be destroyed. My children will drain the life from your body and..."

"Yeah, Yeah, Yeah, listen, I've heard this all before. Could we skip the monologing and get to the fighting, cause honestly, I'm getting a bit cold here."

Dean continued to edge forward, driving the spiders before him. Two more shots and he had them pushed to the edge. He knew he had only moments before the demon set them on him. As he stood, he couldn't stop his gaze from moving toward the point where Sam had disappeared.

"Destroy him."

As the words echoed around him, Dean tore his gaze from the edge of the cliff, and nodded to Joe. Dropping his shotgun, he pulled out his hunting knife. As he tightened his grip on the handle, he moved forward into the swarm, intent on keeping them from scattering. He couldn't help but be repulsed, as he kicked away their surprisingly lite bodies. As he moved, the spiders tugged and pulled at his clothes and skin.

Unable to snare him in such close quarters, their intent seemed to be to try and pull him down by their shear volume. Dean struggled against the creatures, the thought of landing in the sea that surrounded him enough to keep him on his feet. He knew that if he fell he wouldn't get up again.

Continuing to kick, and at times even throw spiders away from him, Dean steadily moved toward the demon. As he forced his way through, he could feel the numerous bites he had suffered beginning to slow him down. The spider's venom was spreading, his legs were now on fire, and his left arm had also been bitten. Unable to stop, but slowed by the pain to the point where he was barely moving, Dean drew back his arm, the knife he carried glittered in the moonlight. He knew he had one chance; he released the knife and was pulled down a moment later.

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Joe watched from the shadows, as Dean moved forward toward the spider lady. Brandishing a wicked looking knife, the older man completely held the Demon's attention.

Joe clenched the smooth handle of the broom he'd brought from the ranger station. Pulling a small bottle from his pocket, he liberally dosed the head of the broom. Once he dropped the bottle back into his pocket, he then lit the broom head, nearly singing off his eyebrows as he did.

Holding the now flaming torch in front of him, he moved out of the shadows and into the night. He moved toward the spiders, careful to circle around the horde, although the majority were focused upon Dean, he needed make sure none fled into the forest. As he brandished his now flaming broom toward the stragglers, he forced them toward Dean and the woman.

As Joe continued to herd them forward, he kept an ever-watchful eye on the older man. Dean had stressed that if he failed the creatures would turn on Joe in minutes. He'd made Joe promise that he'd bolt at the first sign of trouble.

Joe frowned, as he watched Dean move slower and slower obviously beginning to feel the effects of the attacking spiders. Joe picked up his pace, swinging the flaming torch, actually enjoying the heat that poured off the broom. Every now and again, he got lucky, setting on fire the spiders that ventured too close. In those cases, he felt a surge of satisfaction as the body burst into flame, quickly roasting their bloated, black bodies. He was now leaving more and more dead as he continued to round them up, moving them toward Dean, the woman, and the cliff.

888

Sam stood facing the demon, his gaze not on her as she came ever closer. Instead, it was focused on his brother. Dean had been dead set against using Sam as bait, he'd wanted to be the one to throw himself in front of the demon. It had taken the combined efforts of both Sam and Joe to convince him that he was better off fighting the demon directly. Sam edged closer to the cliff, as the demon advanced.

As she came closer, he retreated, until finally he felt the edge through the bottoms of his shoes. Drawing a deep breath, he shared a brief glance with Dean. The look said it all, his brother was petrified, not for himself, no never for himself. Instead, he was scared for Sam. Sam drew courage from his brother and stepped back off the edge.

Although he had expected a jolt upon landing, the vibration that traveled up his legs, his spine and finally slammed into his head, was agonizing. Steadying himself for a moment, he noticed the ledge he was on, was cloaked in darkness, the light from the moon was now blocked by the wall of stone in front of him. As Joe had assured him the cliff was fairly wide, almost three feet at it's widest point.

Sam turned and took a moment, resting his back against the rough stone behind him. As he did, he heard a nearby scrabbling noise. Knowing that it could be nothing else, he cursed the darkness that enveloped him. With only a knife, his .45 and his boots to protect him, he listened, allowing everything but the sound of scrabbling feet melt away. There, he thought kicking out, he felt his foot connect with something solid, the crunching sound causing a shiver to snake its way up his back. He slowly rotated listening for any other sound, anything that would indicate he was alone.

After a moment, only silence greeted him. Running a hand along the wall, Sam moved toward the left. Joe had assured him that if he moved far enough along the wall, there would be an outcropping above him. When he reached this ledge, he should be able to pull himself up and back onto the cliff above. It was one of the reasons, Sam had needed to be the bait. His added height would enable him to reach the outcropping without too much trouble.

Counting under his breath, Sam knew he'd reached the outcropping, straining he raised his hands above him, feeling along the stone ceiling above him. As he searched, he leaned more and more toward the drop. Just as his fingers curved up and over the ledge Sam felt more than heard something launch itself out of the darkness.

Startled, his body shifted backward, as his hand closed fully around the ledge above. Throwing his other hand up, he managed to grab hold, just as something clamped onto his leg. Unable to stop himself, he kicked out trying to shake loose the spider that now gripped his lower leg. He lost his grip with his right hand and dangled for a moment, pain from the fangs of the spider shooting up his body.

Finally, he grabbed hold once more and rocked himself forward. As he let go, he landed on the edge. Without thought, he reached down and tore the creature that gripped him from his leg. As he bashed it against the mountain wall, he felt a burst of statisfaction as he heard the creature squeal. The spider gave one last twitch before it became still. Sam quickly dropped it, kicking it over the ledge next to him.

He rested against the rock, and then dropped to the ground. He reached into his pocket, and fished out his flashlight. Sam gripped the light between his teeth, and began ripping through layers of clothes until finally, he reached skin. There were two nasty punctures in his calf, though they didn't look deep, Sam could already see signs that the spider's poison was starting to spread. He grimaced and stood up, glad to see his leg would still support his weight, though the burning sensation was near impossible to ignore.

Sam shined his flashlight along the ledge almost afraid of what he'd find. There about five feet away was a group of the spiders, there many eyes glowing in the light of his flashlight. Unable to tear his gaze away, Sam drew his gun, and aimed for the grouping. Sam kept his light trained on the spiders, as he quickly fired. At last, he was alone on the ledge. The pain in his leg was quickly becoming harder to ignore, tucking both his gun and his light away, Sam hoisted himself up. Once up, he teetered for a moment, his leg protesting his action. One glance showed him, he was hidden from the spiders by the rock formation he had walked past earlier. Intent on finding Dean, he carefully eased himself around the formation.


	16. Chapter 16

After days of freezing temperatures, constant hunger and a lack of sleep, Sam was at the end of his rope. He stuck to the shadows, as he edged his way around the rock. He was desperate to find out what was happening. Other than a few blasts of Dean's shotgun and a couple of insults earlier, he had little idea of what was going on. As he moved, he tried to ignore the burning in his leg. The pain that radiated out from the bite was now impossible to ignore. Sam knew they were out of time, they needed to kill this thing and kill it quick.

As the clearing came into sight, he saw his brother fighting his way toward the demon. The spiders moved in shifts, darting in an out. It was as if they had a plan of attack, as they worked to avoid his hands, and his boots. They were quickly weakening Dean, and were suffering little in the way of casualties in return. Dean was slowing more and more, he seemed barely able to stay on his feet, let alone close the distance between him and the woman.

As a shaft of moonlight glinted off the knife in Dean's hand, Sam knew what his brother intended. Determined to help, he began to size up the situation.

Joe was doing a good job of keeping the spiders contained. The flaming broom, the kid was swinging, still burned brightly. As an added bonus, every now and then he set fire to a few more spiders, their squeals echoing around the clearing as they burned to death.

His gaze slipped back to his brother. Unable to take his eyes off him, he squatted down. Determined to help, he dug through the snow, looking for a sizable branch. Once he found one that suited him, he unwrapped the scarf around his neck. He was now so cold, he had to force his fingers to obey. He then wrapped the scarf around the end of the stick and knotted it. Holding the makeshift torch in one hand, he headed for Dean.

He knew time was running out, Dean was moving slower, his battered and besieged body weakening by the minute. Sam moved out of the shadows his hand in his pocket, searching for what he knew was there. Sam nearly crowed in delight, when his hand closed around the small rectangular shape. Yeah, the Winchesters had a few rules themselves, one of which was, always carry a lighter. After all, in their line of work you never knew when you might need to set something on fire.

With a flick of his thumb, he lit the lighter, and put the fire to the torch. As he did, a feeling of hope seemed to surge through at the sight of the growing flames. As the crude torch began to smoke and burn in earnest, he set off after his brother.

888

Joe couldn't help but be impressed as the older hunter continued to battle the spiders. The man's obvious determination helped Joe hold on to his own courage. As he worked, intent on keeping any stragglers from making their way back to the forest, he never noticed Sam make his way toward his brother.

It was only a moment later that he watched Dean falter. Unable to continue, the man fell to the ground, only seconds after throwing his knife. Joe's gaze was riveted to the spot where Dean had disappeared. He kept waiting for Dean to get back on his feet. As he watched, he was startled to see Sam heading for Dean's side. There was a lit torch in his hand, and he was clearing a path, setting fire to anything that got in his way.

Driven to a frenzy, the spiders were now starting to turn on each other. The creatures no longer acted as one. Instead, they lashed out at anything that moved. As they attacked each other, their high-pitched squeals and the sound of crunching was almost constant. For Joe it was becoming increasingly difficult to contain them. More and more of the creatures were attempting to escape. Determined to stop them, he set fire to the ones that he could reach, and the others he drove back toward the cliff.

Joe nearly cried out in relief when Sam finally reached the spot where Dean had gone down. Dean lay slumped on the ground, nothing more than a dark shape. Unable to tell if he was still alive, Joe could only hope that Sam was working on a backup plan. After all, if ever there was a time for backup plan, now was it.

888

He had no plan. Working on instinct alone, Sam's only thought, was to reach Dean, as soon as possible. Swinging his branch, he knocked spiders left and right, until finally, he reached his side. As he began clearing a space around his brother's prone body, he kept his gaze focused on the spiders. The thought that he was too late, that Dean was already dead kept running through his mind.

Once the spiders were forced back, Sam thrust the burning branch into the snow, hoping that the light and threat of the flame would be enough to keep them back. As he knelt by his brother, he noticed most of the spiders seemed to be skittering around aimlessly, attacking each other in a frenzy of furry bodies, clicking legs and wicked pinchers. Sam's head swiveled checking the clearing for any sign of the demon.

"She's disappeared, Sam," Joe yelled.

Sam leaned over his brother, concerned with the way he was laying. "If you see her, let me know," He shouted, as he began tapping on his brother's face, trying to rouse him.

888

As Dean regained consciousness he knew he had to get up, although honestly he wasn't sure why, he only knew that it was important. Unfortunately, his body didn't seem inclined to listen.

He lay facedown, he knew that much. After all, it was his face that rested on the cold, wet ground. Actually, every inch of him seemed to be resting on the cold, wet ground. He was also covered in what felt like scratches, bruises and even a bite or two, hell even the ear that was exposed had been abused and seemed to be bleeding sluggishly.

So basically, he was cold, wet and had been attacked. And as if that wasn't enough, he was pretty sure he couldn't feel his right arm from his elbow on down. Though the fact that he could see the appendage in question, made him feel somewhat better.

So there you have it, he was cold, wet, had been attacked and was numb from the elbow to his fingertips. Yeah, good times. Well, he thought, at least he could feel the reassuring outline of his shotgun. He was guessing when he fell he must have landed on top of it. Yup, that was it alright. Always heartening to know you had a weapon. Fully loaded, he was sure. After all, a Winchester always kept his weapon loaded. Yeah, man's best friend, a loaded shotgun, it's wooden stock, firm and reassuring, pressed against his neck. Both barrels aimed at his...Crap, thought Dean, as he forced his eyes open, trying not to make any unnecessary movements.

"That's it. Come on, time to get moving," Sam said, as he saw Dean's eyes open.

Dean lay silent and still, the light from a torch nearly blinding him with it's brightness.

"Sam?" he croaked, his voice sounding harsh in the freezing night air.

"Yeah, I'm here, Dean. Can you move? It's gonna be back any minute."

At his brother's words, Dean remembered everything. "I got her, Sam."

Sam glanced around, a frown marring his features. "I don't think so, Dean."

"I got her, Sam, bull's-eye."

Sam didn't argue, instead he bent down and grabbed Dean under the arm.

"Can you stand, Dean? As soon as that torch goes out, we'll be surrounded."

Nodding, Dean struggled to right himself, leaning on Sam more that he cared to admit. He could see by the light of the torch, that Sam was barely better off than him. Though, admittedly he seemed to have the use of both his arms.

Dean accepted his shotgun from his brother, hoping that Sam didn't notice he grabbed it with his left. Putting his back to Sam, he stared out at the remaining spiders, the shotgun in his hand all but useless.

888

Sam handed Dean his shotgun, a bit alarmed when he noticed his brother grabbing it with his left hand. He couldn't help but notice a stain of what could only be blood covering his brother's arm. He placed his back to Dean and pulled out his handgun, trying to deny the fact that the torch was steadily dimming.

"What now, got any ideas?"

Sam could feel his brother trembling, though he knew Dean would never admit to it.

"Nope, got nothing. You?" Dean's voice sounded bone tired and laced with pain.

"I'm drawing a blank here," Sam admitted.

"Well then, we gonna go with the usual?" asked Dean.

Sam was already checking the clip in his .45 when he answered, "You mean shooting the hell out of anything that moves?"

"Yep, that's the one. You better take the shotgun though. I'm a better shot." Dean thrust the shotgun behind him, waiting for Sam to take it.

Sam grimaced at his brother's statement. He knew it was simply Dean's way of distracting him, anything to avoid talking about his injuries. "Jerk," was Sam's only reply, as he reached out and grabbed the gun.

Sam couldn't help but grin at Dean's hoarsely whispered, "Bitch."

Sam pointed his shotgun at a large group of spiders just beyond the glow of the torch. Before opening fire, he spared a glance for Joe, who was still walking the perimeter. That's when Sam noticed the man was no longer alone. There patrolling the perimeter, forcing the spiders toward Sam and Dean were two other shapes, each carrying a torch. Sam nudged Dean with his elbow and pointed toward their unannounced guests.

Dean's fluent curse let Sam know he'd seen Jen and Steve. Unable to help it, Sam felt a surge of hope, maybe with two more people they stood a chance of wiping out the spiders and dealing with the demon.

It was then his torch winked out.

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Jen resolutely ignored her brother's ranting. After all, it wasn't the first time he ripped her a new one, and if she had anything to say about it, it wouldn't be the last. Tuning out his words, she kept her gaze on the spiders. She wasn't sure what the difference was, but they didn't seem nearly as threatening as they had in the cabin. There, they had purposely gone after the humans with a clear intent. Now however, the few that came near seemed more intent on fleeing than fighting.

It had taken Jen all of twenty minutes to convince Steve they needed to help. Her cousin, frustrated at being left behind, had taken very little persuasion to make him cave. So the two of them had made a couple of makeshift torches and had left the ranger station in a hurry. They had arrived just in time to watch Sam help Dean to his feet.

Now as she watched the brothers standing trapped in the middle of the horde, she racked her brain, trying to figure out a way to help them. At least, she thought, the torch was keeping the spiders at bay.

That's when she saw the torch go out. Without the protection of the fire, Jen was afraid the spiders would quickly overcome the men.

Not bothering to give it a second thought, sure that if she did she would loose her courage, she ran toward the men. She ignored the crunching noises her boots made as she ran, and the yells of both her cousin and most especially her brother. She ran, her shoulders hunched in fear, scared that at any moment she'd be attacked.

At last she reached the boys side, almost falling into Sam. Holding onto his arm, as he steadied her, she said, ""I've come to help."

"Great, now we're saved," Dean replied sardonically

Jen ignored Dean's mocking reply and applied her torch to Sam's. As the torch once again flared up, she gasped in fear. Her gaze riveted on the woman that stood no more than ten feet away. The demon seemed unable to come any closer, her every effort focused on staying upright.

Her stance was anything but steady, and her skin looked even paler in the flickering torch light. Directly over her heart, buried to the hilt, was Dean's knife, an oozing yellow fluid flowing from the wound.

Jen heard Dean rasp, "Bulls-eye told you, Sammy."

"She's hurt, Dean, that's why the spiders are acting so peculiar. She's not controlling them anymore."

"So where's that leave us?"

Sam shook his head a bit. "Uh, not sure honestly."

Jen could practically hear the older hunter grinding his teeth. "Alright then, give me your knife, Sam."

Jen could already see where the brother's line of conversation was heading.

"No, I'll do it, Dean."

"Right, like you can hit anything, let alone a moving target. Just give me the knife, Sam."

"Sure, I'll give you the knife. If you can take it, you can have it." Sam turned toward his brother, his anger, and frustration with Dean overriding his sense.

"Come on," he taunted, "take it. Let's see you use your right hand, Dean, come on."

Dean's glare could have easily have set fire to every spider in the clearing, instead, all it did was increase Sam's taunting smile.

One moment, Sam stood knife in hand, rocking in the snow, on the balls of his feet and the next the knife was gone, and he was massaging the back of his head.

Dean tossed the knife left handed up into the air and caught it neatly. "You may be younger and faster, Sam, but you forget, I'm meaner."

Jen turned from the brother's bickering, waving her torch a bit to deter any of the braver spiders. As she did, she saw the demon raise one trembling hand.

"Uh, guys?" Jen tugged on Sam's sleeve.

Sam and Dean turned at the same moment. As they watched, the demon seemed to gather her energy. The spiders that surrounded the humans began chattering again, their squeals and cries gaining in strength.

888

Dean was done, there were no two ways about it. He'd hiked in the snow, been bitten by demon spiders, been insulted by strangers, had sent Sam off to be bait. He was hungry, tired and in pain. He had, had enough and as far as he was concerned, the bitch was going down.

He stepped away from his brother, the knife gripped lightly in his hand, his arm relaxed by his side. Step by step, he struggled to get closer, the spiders now seeming to vibrate in anticipation. As he drew near, he brought back his arm and with the flick of his wrist let the knife fly. Dean's aim was true; the knife struck dead center between the demon's eyes.

As the woman sank to the ground, a loud keening noise echoed around them. The high-pitched tone, made the hair on the nape of Dean's neck stand straight. Covering his ears with his hands, he couldn't help but notice that the spiders were dropping to the ground where they stood.

As Dean watched the woman's skin began to ripple. Coarse, black hair began to sprout from her exposed skin. Her raven black hair receded until it was little more than stubble and finally it met with the new hair growth, she was now covered in hair.

Unaware that the others joined him, Dean watched in disgust as the woman's sides began to bulge. Her silk dress seemed to disintegrate, as two more limbs forced themselves out of her sides. Her body began to swell like a balloon being filled with air. A sound like a shot went off followed by more pops as the bones in her legs and arms began to snap, the breaks re-forming as joints.

Dean could hear a retching noise behind him, as the woman's eyeballs fell to the ground, only to be replaced by a multitude of dull black eyes. Feeling his own stomach heave, Dean stared down at the dead spider that now lay on the ground before him.

Unable to resist, he pulled his handgun from inside his jacket pocket, cursing thoroughly, he fired four shots into the already dead spider.

Steve's voice came from behind Dean, a hint of awe in his voice, "Wow, I think you just used all seven of the dirty words. Not sure, I've ever heard that particular combination used. Nice technique."

Dean nodded in acknowledgement and sank to the ground, his legs no longer capable of holding him up.

"So, can we go home now?" Jen asked.

Sam walked to his brother's side, slid an arm around his waist, and got him to his feet. Heading toward a large flat boulder, pain flared in his own leg, as it protested the extra weight. Once there, he settled Dean on the rock and collapsed next to him. "Not yet," Sam said, as he waved an arm to encompass the mounds of dead spiders, "first we need to have ourselves a little bonfire."

Jen, Steve, and Joe exchanged disgusted looks. "I can't believe this is your job," Jen said, as she dragged her aching, tired, body toward one of the spiders.

Sam snorted, as he began to look over Dean's wounds. "Yeah, trust me though, it's not always so glamorous."


	17. Chapter 17

"Dean, come on

"Dean, come on. Come on, Dean, you have to stay awake." Sam tapped Dean's cheek trying to wake his brother.

Earlier Dean had mumbled something about, "spiders, over the ledge..." just before his eyes rolled up in his head and his body went limp. Sam had barely managed to catch him before he slipped off the rock they were perched on.

Ever since Sam had stayed by his brother's side, giving orders when necessary. As the sun had risen it had become easier and easier for the others to find the spiders and add them to the ever-growing pile.

"Sam." Jen stood only a foot away, her nose was tipped bright red, her eyes were bleary with exhaustion, and she was shaking from the cold. She seemed to be moving on sheer will alone.

Sam turned his head, his body curled almost protectively around his brother's body. "Yeah?"

"We're pretty sure we've got them all, Joe even went so far as to check the back trail," Jen offered.

"Pretty sure's not going to cut it. Do you want some family stumbling over a spider corpse on their afternoon hike?" even as he said the words, Sam knew he was out of line. After all, everyone was exhausted, cold and tired.

The problem was, he also knew Dean wouldn't willingly leave unless every last spider was burned. Sam glanced at his brother, his every thought focused on what he should do, versus what he wanted to do. As usual, his emotions won out. "Sorry for snapping, Jen, let's light 'em up and then we can get out of here."

Jen turned, and signaled to Joe who in turn lit the pyre. It was to their benefit that the spiders burned like dry kindling. As the pile flared to life, thick black billowing smoke made a column to the sky. As the fire consumed the black bodies, Sam relished the heat as it radiated outward from the blaze.

Steve stepped up to the fire, wincing at the brightness. "You know, maybe the pile will work as a signal flare. The weather's cleared, today the rescue chopper may be looking for us." Steve's grin almost rivaled the fire for brightness at the thought of rescue.

Sam on the other hand felt his stomach drop. "We have to go." Sam again tried to rouse his brother.

"No, Steve's right, this could be the break we're looking for." Joe stared at the sky, as if he could already see a helicopter coming to rescue them.

"Rescue for you, jail for us. We have to get out of here." Sam continued trying to wake Dean.

"I don't get it, you two are heroes, you saved me, and you saved the town," Jen pleaded, her eyes reflecting her confusion.

"Would you believe it, Jen? I mean if I explained to you what happened." Sam could see that Jen was beginning to understand. "Well, it's the same thing in every town, and with everything we do," Sam looked at her brother, "we need to disappear."

Joe began moving at once, "Well, then we'll make sure you do."

888

Sam still couldn't believe just how much effort, Jen, Steve and Joe had gone to, in order to help them. As predicted, a helicopter soon followed the lighting of the fire. Sam though had little choice but to follow Joe's lead.

Within minutes, Joe had pushed aside their rescuers questions and had gotten them all loaded and ready. The hardest part was convincing a decidedly groggy Dean to board the helicopter. As glad as Sam was to see Dean's green gaze and to hear his brother feeling well enough to complain, he hated having to force him into the helicopter.

"Dean, listen there's a helicopter, it's the fastest way down the mountain."

Dean tried to focus his gaze on his little brother, struggling to rise, he said, "Naw...'m good Sam. We can ride back to the car."

Sam smiled grimly, and said, "Do you know which way the car is, Dude? Cause, I gotta admit I'm a bit lost."

Dean struggled to pull away from Sam. "'S okay we'll find it..." Dean's voice trailed away as he continued to try and stand up.

Sam grimaced, hating to see his brother fighting just to hold onto consciousness. Finally, knowing it was the only way to get Dean on board, he said, "I can't Dean, I was bit in the leg. I can't stand."

Dean forced himself to his feet, his arm hanging limply at his side. He never hesitated. "Okay, Sam, helicopter it is."

Sam tried to hide the emotions that ripped through him at his brother's words. A whispered, "Thanks," was the best he could do. The idea that Dean would willingly get into a helicopter simply because it was best for Sam, floored him.

Gripping Dean's good arm, Sam helped him toward the aircraft. As they headed to town, he pretended not to notice Dean's fear. That his brother's already white complexion, had whitened even more, or the way his brother's fingers curled into the seat in a death grip.

Fifteen minutes later, they landed at a pad on the outskirts of town. Sam was never quiet sure how it happened, but one moment they were getting off the chopper and the next they were hustled not into one of the waiting ambulances but into a minivan instead.

Dean, unable to do more than question Sam with his eyes, obviously felt they were in trouble. Sam though actually began to relax once a more matronly version of Jen climbed behind the wheel. Though dark circles of fatigue shadowed her eyes her smile was identical to Jen's.

As she navigated her way through a crowd of well-wishers, gawkers and news reporters she spoke over her shoulder. "Now, you two just relax and we'll have you home in a jiffy. I'm Carol by the way." Here the older woman's voice began to crack with emotion. "You saved my children." As she looked in the rearview mirror her eyes met Sam's, her whispered, "Thank You," was laced with tears.

Sam nodded and settled back into his seat, he kept arm around Dean, supporting his brother as best he could. He'd tried to get Dean to lay down, but his brother had refused.

"Sam," Deans voice was weak with pain, "what's going on?"

"It's going to be fine, Dean," Sam reassured his brother, careful to hide his own worries.

888

Dean came to slowly his first sense to return to him was sound. As he focused he immediately recognized Sam's low voice and Jen's softer responses.

"He's been out for two days now."

"I know Sam, but he's going to be fine. His temperatures back to normal and his wounds have stopped, weeping."

It didn't take much to here the disgust in Jen's tone. Dean vaguely wondered just what his wounds had been weeping. Pushing away the thought he concentrated on Sam's voice. Even without opening his eyes, Dean well imagine Sam's expression. His baby brother would be standing inches from this side, one hand reaching out to Dean, but never quite making contact. His eyes would be hidden by his shaggy hair and his lips would be drawn tight, a frown etched on his face.

Dean opened his eyes just a bit, wincing at the brightness of the room. Once the pain from the light stopped sending needles of pain through his head, Dean widened his gaze. He couldn't help the chuckle that escaped him as he noted Sam standing next to his bed, one hand reaching toward his him.

" 'M not dead, dude," Dean said, surprised at just how weak his voice sounded.

Sam dropped like a ton of bricks onto the side of Dean's bed in relief.

Dean would have cursed as pain shot through his arm except he knew just how badly Sam needed the contact. Shifting slightly, Dean made sure he was touching Sam, offering comfort. "So, the spider bites were weeping huh?"

Sam nodded wearily. "Yeah, I wasn't too worried until they began to smell. That's when I finally called the doctor in."

Dean didn't know which part of that statement to address first. "Wait, you called a doctor?" Was quickly followed by, "What do you mean smell?"

Sam shook his head, smiling slightly. "I mean smelled, Dude, it was disgusting. Especially the bite on your forearm, that one was the worst. I just kept irrigating it over and over again and it kept oozing."

"Dude, stop, I think I'm gonna heave."

Sam grinned. "Yeah, well walk a mile in my shoes. Anyway, it just wasn't looking good, so Joe got the doctor and he thinks he's gotten it cleared up. At least the smell died away and the goo stopped oozing."

Dean's looked slightly repulsed at Sam's detailed description. Looking down at the offending arm, he fisted his hand, glad to see he could once again feel it. "So where the hell are we. Last thing I remember is getting into that thing."

"Yeah, well that 'thing' brought us here, to Cranston. We've been living in Joe's place for nearly a week now." Sam held up a hand as Dean started to protest. "Don't start with me, Dean, you were out of it. What was I supposed to do, we had to go someone where. And Jen's family's been great, they've kept us a secret. No one knows we're here."

Hearing a sound at the door, both brothers turned to watch as a grey haired man entered the room. "Ah, there he is now, wonderful to see you awake young man. You had us all very worried." He moved toward the bed, one hand automatically reaching out to touch Dean's forehead.

Dean flinched in response, avoiding the man's hand. Eyebrows drawn he stared hard at the man and said, "Sorry, but I'm a dinner and drinks first kinda guy. Well unless you're a twenty-something co-ed," here Dean looked the man up and down, taking in his potbelly and thick white beard, "which you're not."

The man merely smiled a bit at his remark, though Dean could see Sam, shooting him dirty looks. "I'm Dr. Marsh. I was the one that spent two nights by your bedside, while your brother glowered, irrigating your wounds and monitoring your fever. Trust me we know each other well enough." With these words, the doctor reached out and touched a hand to Dean's forehead. With a nod, he pulled back and began asking questions.

"Now, how's the arm, particularly your grip?" The doctor's steely blue eyes focused intently on Dean.

Dean unable to tear his gaze away from the doctor, open and closed his hands several times, before offering, "Not bad."

"And as a whole, how are you?"

Dean, careful not to grimace shifted until he could sit upright. Trying not to sway he nodded. "I'm fine."

The doctor tapped his chin for a moment and nodded. "Alright then, you can leave."

Dean nodded ignored Sam's angry huff smiling at the doctor's words.

"If you can stand up that is." The Doctor raised a brow in challenge.

Sam rolled his eyes and shot the doctor a look of annoyance as Dean, white as a sheet, pushed himself upright into a standing position.

Dean held out his arms, careful to control their trembling. "No sweat."

Dr. Marsh nodded. "Alright then, you can go. Just keep taking the penicillin. I'm not sure what the effects, if any, the poison will have on you, so keep watch and call me if you need anything." The doctor turned toward Sam, and shook the younger man's hand. "You keep an eye on him, Sam."

Sam nodded solemnly and shook the Doctor's hand. "Thanks for everything you did."

"It was a pleasure to help you, after all, you saved our Jen." With that, the doctor patted the young girl on the back and headed out the door.

Jen looked at Dean and smiled broadly. "He's my godfather."

"Great, So Sam we ready to go?"

"Dean, you're in no condition to leave. You need to rest, you were really sick," Sam pleaded with his brother, desperate to keep him from leaving so soon. It was Jen that came to his rescue.

"Well, I was thinking, Dean, Steve and Joe are here and I was telling them how you killed me in Risk. See the thing is, Joe says it was a fluke, he thinks there's no way you'd win again." Jen's taunting smile lit up the young girl's face.

Dean's gaze met Sam and he grinned. "Well hell, bring it on."

888

"Let's go Francis, we're burning daylight." Dean slammed the lid of the trunk, only favoring his arm slightly.

Sam rolled his eyes and reached out to shake hands with Joe. "I really appreciate everything you did Joe. Putting us up, getting the car, everything."

"I can't repay you guys, you saved my sister's life. Not to mention Steve's and mine. If you're ever back this way again, I want you to know you're always welcome."

"I second that, Sam."

Sam turned toward the woman that had driven the mini-van. Carol stood before him a basket in her arms. Handing it to Sam, she smiled and reached out an arm to draw Jen to her side.

"Now, there are sandwiches in there and also some sodas. I made a chocolate cake this morning and included a couple of slices. You boys take care of yourselves, and thank you."

Dean nodded. "Thank you." Turning toward Jen, he grinned. "Well this is it, Kiddo."

Jen's eyes began to tear as she pulled away from her mother's side. "You'll come back though right? You'll come to see us again?" With these words, Jen launched herself at Dean. Wrapping her arms around his middle, she pressed her face against his chest.

Dean embraced the young girl, and leaned down to whisper, "We'll come back, after all, I don't think Joe's learned his lesson yet, the man still believes he can beat me."

Jen nodded, her face still buried against Dean's chest.

Dean cleared his throat a bit. "Um, Jen, we need to get going."

Still the girl didn't move.

"God Damn it, Jen, let the man go," Joe called out, his voice tinged with exasperation.

"Joseph, you know perfectly well that's one of the words. I won't tolerate language like that in my home." It was Carol's voice that finally re-called Jen to the present.

"Sorry, Mom," Joe answered, as he reached out and tugged his still dazed sister to his side. "You guys take care."

Sam and Dean waved once more and headed for the car. Sam driving as Dean's arm still wasn't completely better. Once settled, Sam turned to Dean, and asked, "You ready?"

Dean nodded, "Hell, vampires will be a breeze compared to this."


End file.
